But a few days later, he returned, looking out over the lake forlornly whenever his book lost his attention, and Harry frowned at him. He didn't speak to him this time, not feeling like being talked down to again, but the damnable Christmas spirit was getting to him. Luna had knitted scarves for every single former member of Dumbledore's army that was still at school, and Terry Boot had personally gone around adding tinsel to every single portrait the school held, no matter how big or small.

The Patil twins had open up a candy-gram booth with Lavender Brown, an idea they'd apparently got from Muggle films that involved delivering sweets to anyone you requested. Harry had heard Lavender hadn't wanted to take part initially, scared people would be repulsed by her werewolf scars, but as soon as they'd set up shop, she had been the first to receive most of the first dozen orders.

It was hard to resist the positive vibes that were drifting around, especially with all the loved up couples snuggling together in the Eighth Year common room and holding hands between classes. Harry could only clutch onto his animosity towards Malfoy for so long when everyone else was so happy, and he looked so miserable.

"Are you scared you won't be as good as me?" he stage whispered as he followed him out of the castle the second Saturday of the month, and grinned cheekily as Malfoy had turned to him in confusion which quickly turned to a glare.

"Potter, what are you on about?" he demanded grouchily as he stomped down the stairs into the gently falling snow.

Harry thrust out his hands in front of them both, dangling his skates and the new pair he had transfigured out of slippers he no longer wanted, having been assured by Hermione he'd get new ones for Christmas anyway. "It's either that, or you don't have skates, so you can borrow these if you like, they look like they'd fit."

Malfoy stopped and blinked at him as if he was an imbecile. "What's your obsession with getting me on that damn patch of ice?" he all but sneered.

Harry faltered, but he refused to back down. Apparently, Pansy had told Lisa who had told Hermione that Malfoy used anger as a defence mechanism, and that he didn't mean half the awful things he said at all. Harry wondered why on Earth he would say them then, but that had just got a withering look from Hermione, so he'd decided to take her word for it.

He huffed and wiggled the spare skates in front of Malfoy. "I'm sure you've just left your fancy ones at home or something," he teased. "So how about you take these for now, and we can see who's fastest."

"Why?" Malfoy snapped, hugging his book to his chest and glowering.

"Because that's what we do," Harry said kindly. "We compete against each other. If we hadn't been so horrid to one another, it might have been fun before. But there's no reason it couldn't be now."

Malfoy licked his lips, and something odd shot up Harry's spine. He had no idea what it meant, so he shook his head and ignored it.

"But...why?" Malfoy asked again. "We're not friends!"

Harry shrugged. "We could be, a fresh start and all that?" He pushed the skates into Malfoy's hands. "Come on, I'm not really that great, I'm sure you'll beat me easily."

Malfoy looked hopefully down at the skates, then up at Harry...before his face crumbled into a scowl and he shoved them back. "Just forget it, alright?" he growled, and stalked off back towards the castle.

Harry frowned at the boots, until a thought struck him and he chased after Malfoy.

"You can't skate," he whispered, quietly this time as he grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt in the entrance hall. There were students milling around, and Malfoy hastily whipped his head back and forth to see if anyone was paying them attention, but nobody seemed to be listening in.

"What?" he hissed, his face only a couple of inches away from Harry's. "Of course I can – don't be – that's just stupid."

Harry stared at him, his eyebrows slowly rising, not saying anything.

Malfoy clenched his jaw, his gaze flicking this way and that, until he finally screwed up his eyes and his fists. "Okay, fine," he lashed out, peeking from under one eyelid. "I can't skate, at all, I always fall on my arse. Are you happy now, going to tell everyone?"

He squeezed his eye shut again, avoiding Harry's reaction. So Harry did the most natural thing to get his attention, and rubbed his arm.

His eyes flew back open, and Harry smiled. "No," he said patiently. "Of course I'm not." Malfoy narrowed his eyes to show his disbelief, but Harry didn't fold. "Okay, take these," he instructed, handing over the new skates for a second time. "And meet me back here at ten o'clock."

"Tonight?" Malfoy spluttered.

"No, in a week's time," Harry mocked, rolling his eyes. "Yes, tonight. That way we can go out on the ice and no one will see us."

Malfoy shook his head, not understanding. "To do what? I told you, I can't skate!" He seemed to think Harry was making fun of him, so Harry treated him like he would Ron, and squeezed his shoulder in what he hoped what a comforting manner.

"So I can teach you, dummy," he said fondly, then walked away before Malfoy could try and protest.