mini_fest | Fic: The Nightmare Before Christmas

Title: The Nightmare Before Christmas (HP-version)
Author:

naturegirlrocks
Rating: PG-13
Pairing Harry/Draco
Summary Draco is the Pumpkin King, but he longs for something more than Halloween. When he finds a Muggle book called Making Christmas he knows what he needs to do.
Words 8000+
A/N So, I may got the ‘mini’ thing wrong here, but when I read the promt I could not help myself.

“Boys and girls of every age,” echoed George Weasleys magnified voice over the party venue. “Wouldn't you like to see something strange?”

Yes, he rhymed. It brought on that extra Halloween spirit over the party. George was wearing one of his own creations, a suit that changed to perfectly match what ever other suit he came in contact with. For the moment his costume matched the musicians to whom he had been whispering just a moment before. The musicians were all pirates and George was dashing in a Peter Pan costume (a story very popular with wizards for some reason).

He stood on the middle of a large stage. A row of five scarecrows was hanging behind him, each one scarier than the other. Bats were flying around the ceiling of the venue. Paper skeletons fluttered everywhere in the room. Glasses and punch bowls were filled with a blood red drink. Guests were dressed in all kinds of imaginary costumes, mingling and dancing.

There were applauds from the crowd that moved closer to the stage. There had to be over three hounded people there; the Ministry’s Halloween parties were legendary. At least, they had become legendary for the last five years, when the Wizard Holliday And Celebrations Committee Order (or WHACCO) elected their new Pumpkin king.

“This is Halloween!” called George (who was not the Pumpkin King, but the head entertainer and also supplier for the evening).

The rows of innocent looking pumpkin lanterns that were placed around the venue suddenly screamed, and their candles flamed up like small roaring fires. Suddenly every woman in the room felt an invisible hand gripping around their ankles. Their screams reverberated though the room. Then all laughed nervously and told everyone how scared they had been and compared their level of ‘scareness’ to each other.

“This is Halloween night! Trick or treat, full of fright!””

George laughed as about ten female dancers half dressed in unravelling mummy costumes entered the stage and surrounded him. The music started and the dancers moved stiffly around George like their limbs were that of the Inferi, dragging the bandages on the ground. George laughed as his suit changed to that of a Pharaoh.

The dancers moved to form a circle, holding up their arms like a high fence. Music became higher, building. The dancers were now running around in panic (but a very well coordinated one).

The mummy dancers suddenly collected themselves and (gracefully) spelled a rain of snakes and spiders over the audience. There were scrams and faints, until someone discovered that it was just candy and then there were laughter (and more comparisons of who had been the most scared).

“This is Halloween!” called George.

There was a short show as the mummies some even better coordinated dancing. With a flourish and another explosion George stood in the middle of the dancers, his suit red, black and slimy green.

“Are you waiting for your next surprise? Then scream!”

This time the invincible hands only grabbed hold of some of the young woman, who had a higher pitch to their screams. Everybody jumped with fright.

“Aren’t you scared?”

The pumpkin lanterns glowed faintly, making the dark walls filled with carved evil faces. A chilly wind blew though the hall, making the audience on the edge of their nerves. A shadow moved over the fake (but so real looking) moon and the panic could almost be tasted in the air.

And then…

The venue exploded in fireworks and light and music and dancers and confetti. Relief and laughter filled the audience. Then more applauds, laughter and some whistles.

[Soft Break] “Now for out last surprise…!” George grinned “…please make way for a very special guy!”

And then the five scarecrows (that nobody really had noticed) in the back suddenly burst into flames. Four of them continued to burn, but the fifth jumped down on the stage, still ablaze, and made some smooth dance steps.

“Every one hail to the Pumpkin King!”

There were more screams (not the scared way, but the exited) and applauds. The burning scarecrow was gone and the stood Draco Malfoy. Tall and thin, dressed in an all black suit. His platinum blond hair slicked back over his head, making him almost look bald against his pale skin. His face was painted like a skull, his nose gone in black makeup, teeth over his lips, and there were black circles around his eyes.

“Welcome to Halloween 2010!” he said with magnified voice. “I hope you enjoyed the show and will enjoy the rest of the evening…” (more applauds) “I also hope you all have your raffle tickets handy, if not, miss Lovegood – the lovely Mollycackweck (she looks like a pink pixy) by the door – will be happy to sell you some. The raffle charity for this year is, as you all know, the new paediatrics-ward of St Mungo’s. Again, Welcome!”

There were more applauds as Draco left the stage. He was immediately accosted by several women, and some men. All were dressed in quite skin-revealing clothes.

“Mr Malfoy! What a brilliant show!”

“You are so handsome!”

“Thank you,” Draco tried to back away from them. “Thank you, so much.”

“We will also have prizes for best costumes…” George was talking again.

Draco used the distraction to slip away.

Draco was out of the hall. He leaned back on the door, glad to escape the chaos for a while. He did not need to make and appearance until midnight when he was holding the traditional wizard Halloween ceremony. That was still four hours away, the party was just getting stared, and Draco just wanted to go home.

“What’s up, boss?”

“The same, Ginerva, the same…” Draco sighed.

His secretary was dressed as a ghost. Several layers of almost see-through white fabrics caressed her. The contours of her curved body hinted underneath. The only thing distracting was her glowing red hair. She frowned.

“What?”

“I’m good at this, right?” Draco motioned to the doors behind which the party was.

“The best!” smiled Ginny. “You’re brilliant at Halloween, Draco. And you are the only one at WHACCO that really can handle the traditionals. Beltrane was gorgeous! You had offers!”

“I can do those things standing on my head,” he sighed as he began walking towards the exit. “I have heard it all. I’m charming. But still I scare the shit out of them. I still get Halloween every year. Why are they still scared of me? I’ve have changed? Haven’t I?”

“Sure you have,” nodded Ginny with a sympathetic smile. “You hardly scare me at all now. And your wannabee-slappers are getting braver. That girl in the bunny suit almost touched you!”

Draco shivered at the thought. Maybe he should do some big Dark Magic display to make the girls back off. The trouble was that it usually scared the men away as well. Not that he was lonely, or anything. No, he had his amazing girl-team at WHACCO, and his boss, Percy Weasley, kept him busy planning, researching and acting out rituals to match the Magical calendar.

“It’s just the same thing. Year after year…”

“It’s only been five years…” Ginny began but was interrupted since Draco was not going to listen to her.

“I’m so tired of this!” Draco sulked. “Do you know I had to secretly research which one of those witches had the best screams, so that they would fit in the show? My entire head is screaming! Pumpkin King, my arse!”

Ginny just walked behind him, letting her boss went. She had heard this before; she was actually one of the few that Draco dared to utter such things to, the others were Luna and Pansy, her co-workers at WHACCO.

“I long for something new…”

He could scare the pants of anyone, but that is not a way to have a decent relationship. Draco Malfoy, Mr Unlucky. And why? He was smart and well read. He even gone a year to a Muggle university – nothing came out of that except a bunch of Shakespearean quotations. Still the tattoo on his arm mattered more than himself.

“I feel empty, Ginerva…” he sighed.

They had reached the Muggle streets and were passing people in costume and the ordinary drunk holiday party crowd. Draco’s bones felt hollow. Pumpkin King, his crown had already begun to rot as it was placed on his head. Nobody really understood him.

Ginny had stopped walking, silently looking at Draco’s back retreating down the street. She didn’t want to move too far away from the venue; she had a responsibility there. Draco would return by midnight. She felt a gush of familiarity beside her and smiled a sad smile as Harry Potter stepped out from under his Invincibility cloak. He was wearing simple blue jeans and a red sweater

“Oh,” he sighed, looking after the skeleton painted man. “I know exactly how he feels. I fell it too.”

“How did you get out?” Ginny gently took his arm.

“I wanted to see the party,” Harry sighed.

“Well, let me take you back…” Ginny gave him the kind of smile you give when you pity sick people. “Mom’s probably very worried about you.”

Draco had stopped in front of a big Muggle store. It seamed to be one of those things called a galleria, many stores inside an even bigger one. He tilted his head at the Muggles going in and out of the building. Some of the Muggles were in costume, at least all the children were dressed up. The staff was also dressed up.

There were sparkling lights and music. It looked really nice, commercial, but nice. Hesitantly he stepped inside. The stores were closed but they were decorated in the Halloween theme, matching with their merchandise. The fashion shops had pumpkin heads on their dolls. The music shop displayed posters of black clad metal and hard rock groups. It was kind of like a maze in a scary house.

At the centre of the galleria a young man in a velvet jacket with gold buttons where selling tickets. Behind him was a lit square surrounded by small kitchens, chairs and tables.

“What is this?” Draco asked.

“Ticket to the Taste Court, sir?” said the man with a welcoming smile, though his eyes showed an awed fear over Draco’s authentic skeleton costume. “For only seven pounds you may mix three small dishes from any restaurant from their special menus. You are also welcome to the special opening of our Christmas room.”

“What is that?” Draco dug around his pockets for his emergency wallet with Muggle money.

“Only fifty four days ‘til Christmas, sir,” the youth winked and held up a ticket, it was orange and had three squares where the restaurants could fill in his order. “By the way, sir. You have a totally awesome costume.”

Draco nodded and took the ticket. The Taste Court was full of people but not crowded. There was colour everywhere. He walked over to the cheese stand and was given a small red plastic sword by a woman dressed like a tarty milkmaid. As he stabbed one of the cheese cubes with the tiny sword his eyes was caught by something white.

Slowly chewing on the cheese he walked closer to what the young man had referred to as the Christmas room.

There was plastic snow flakes, glitter, baubles, lights, candy canes, painted on frost, ginger bread, apples, gifts, Christmas trees… Draco suddenly felt short of breath and had to grab hold of a teddy bear with the size and colour of a polar bear.

What is this? Could he be dreaming? Thoughts of wonderful possibilities forming in his head.

Happy! That was the word of Christmas. Not ‘Scary’ – Happy! Draco wanted to be happy!

Teddy bears. Fluffy toys. Candy. A nice cosy reading corner by a bookshelf full of colourful books. There were no ghosts, so spiders, no bats, no werewolves or trolls (if you looked away from the dressed up children and some of the adults, of course).

He had never celebrated Christmas as a child. His parents celebrated the winter solace like good wizards did. Draco had not experienced a Christmas until his so called eighth year at Hogwarts. Then people had still been so scared of him that even the Slytherins shunned him. Like he was going to suddenly snap. They should have kept their eyes on Potter instead…

The years following school he had spent the holidays alone.

“What is this?” he asked a Muggle woman dressed up as a tarty travesty of a house elf (Those ears was not even real! And what was with the Muggles and dressing up like tarts?).

“Mulled wine, sir. Alcohol free. Would you like a recipe?” she held up a glossy paper. “It is from this book ‘Making Christmas’, half prize, only tonight.” She fluttered her eyelashes and displayed some cleavage, flirting with him more openly than a regular sales woman should.

Draco did not notice, he was leafing though the book. Oh, he wanted this. He wanted it; he wanted it for his own. He stopped at a picture of a young couple kissing under mistletoe and almost began to cry. This was Christmas.

He bought the book, four of them.

“Where is he?” Percy Weasley looked around the venue in panic. “Great Merlin, where is he? What do we do if he does not show up? What do we do?”

“Calm down,” Pansy Parkinson adjusted her boss’s Gryffindor tie (why he chose to go to a Halloween party in his school uniform, she’d never know.)

“Help me out here, Parkinson,” Percy gulped down his drink, looking a bit unsteady on his feet. “I’m the boss. I can’t make decisions on my own here!”

“Why don’t you go and find your wife, sir?” smiled Pansy kindly. “We have this under control.”

“Yes, my wife… yes…” Percy looked around the dressed up crowd, more panic filling his eyes. “I’ve forgotten what she looks like.”

Pansy sighed and looked around.

“There, sir,” she pointed. “See that Mary Queen of Scots over there? That’s Hermione.”

“Oh! Good!” Percy seemed to calm down a little. “Are you sure…?”

“We got this, sir!”

The WHACCO head nodded and left to find his queen. Pansy took two seconds before she began to panic herself. She ran and grabbed hold of Luna, whose pink dress stood out like a beacon where ever she was.

“Where is Draco?” hissed Pansy. “It’s almost Midnight. He is not here! I don’t know the ritual!”

“Oh,” Luna looked around, not looking worried at all. “I know it... kind of…”

Before Pansy had time to stop her, Luna had climbed to the stage. Pansy closed her eyes and hoped that everyone was too drunk to notice.

Pansy, Luna and Ginny sat in Draco’s office. All were harbouring the after-effects of hangover potion and felt a little weak.

“Has any one tried a point-me spell?” asked Ginny rubbing her head.

“I did,” Pansy gulped down her third cup of coffee, risking her limit for caffeine overdose. “But it came out unclear.”

“I flooed his father,” Luna did look paler than usual. “I’m welcome to come over and look for him, he said.”

Lucius Malfoy was the only wizard in the United Kingdom to have a Ministry licence for practicing full out Dark Magic. Research, it was called. The man did nothing to lighten Draco’s reputation. Lucius also had a good eye to Luna, who reminded him of his late wife – only juicier, what ever that meant.

“Ladies!” the office door opened up with a bang that made the three witches fall off their chairs. “Meeting!”

Draco was still wearing his skeleton costume, but his hair was wild and he had a big red scarf around his neck. Red! He was also levitating a big pile of shopping bags behind him. The girls were all handed each a big book.

“We,” pronounced Draco with a big smile though his painted teeth. “We are taking Christmas!”

“We are taking w…what?” stammered Pansy.

“Christmas!” continued Draco while unpacking his shopping bags, filling his desk with different Christmas ornaments.

“But, Christmas is not ours, Neville has Christmas.” Ginny stared at the book on her lap. “We got Halloween, wicca and the Old Trad’s. I don’t even go to the Ministry Christmas Parties. Mom usually cooks so much food that I’m in a coma ‘til New Year.”

“Now it’s ours!” Draco flourishly transfigured the hat rack to a giant Christmas tree that almost pushed Luna of her chair again.

“But what about the Yule-feast?” Ginny looked at Draco’s calendar. “We have it planned for the twentieth…?”

“Yule-schmule,” Draco huffed and waved his wrist in a very gay manor. “Just book the Smorgasbord at Gwendalyn’s Gourmet and put up a sign-up list on the bulletin board in the Atrium. We have bigger fishes to fry!”

“Needles attract Hopstanks,” said the Luna looking suspiciously on the green branches of the tree beside her and then to Draco. “They could have gotten to his brain.”

“Listen everyone!” Draco clapped his hands. “I have been places! Things there are so peculiar that I could not believe it! I can see it before me! Our Christmas! It’s going to be wonderful! Here, let me show you! Page seven, ladies! Presents!”

The women flipped their books to the right page.

“Oh, how delightful!” exclaimed Luna over the picture portraying a pile of wrapped presents under a tree. “Daddy and I never wrap your presents, how fun! Look at all the pretty paper!”

“Here!” Draco took a thick book from one of his bags. “This is called a sample catalogue, it shows all the wrapping paper they have, there’re apparently over a hundred kinds of patterns!”

“Wow!” Pansy pushed her chair next to Luna’s to look at the catalogue. “Does this mean we can go shopping for presents to wrap?”

“Yes!”

Pansy squealed like a teenager meeting her favourite boy band.

“Look!” Ginny pointed to her Making Christmas-book. “I did not know that there were so many ways to tie a bow! How pretty! We never have things like this for Christmas. Mom and Dad said we did not need it since we had each other.”

“Poor people’s excuse,” said Draco casually. “Here!” he threw them each a huge red sock. (Again: Red!)

“There is only one,” Pansy held up her sock and wrinkled her pugnose. “And it’s too big. And it’s ugly.”

“It’s an American thing,” explained Draco. “You put candy in them! And then you hang them on your floo…” Draco looked at his sock, thinking. “It’s sounds utterly unhygienic, now when I think about it… But the sale-Muggle said that you also can put small toys in them.”

“I guess that could be fun…” Ginny looked at her sock. “The only socks I got for Christmas were my brothers’ old ones that mom had mended, if they were filled with toys it would have been better.”

“I got socks for Christmas once,” said Luna remembering. “My mum gave them to me before she died. I like it!” she hugged her sock. “And it looks like a great place for my hedgehog to hibernate.”

“Can we do this?” Ginny looked up from her exploration of her book. “Have you asked Percy? Is Neville fine with it? Have you asked him?”

“No worries,” Draco grinned a smile though his make up that made his girl-team a little scared, and actually a little turned on. “I got it all under control.”

“Something is up with Malfoy,” said Ron over the Sunday dinner table at the Burrow. “He has been insisting the Auror department should have socks on our floos. Do you think he has finally cracked?” He winced. “Sorry Harry, no offence.”

“None taken,” Harry poked his food, looking paler than usual.

Harry was still tired from his multiple nervous, magical and mental breakdowns, but he was getting better. He listened closely to everything said about Draco Malfoy and, frankly, he was worried. Ever since Halloween, when he’d seen the lost look on that painted face, Harry knew he was in love. In love with Draco Malfoy! How he wished this to be another side effect of his potions.

But he has stopped taking his potions… weeks ago…

Again he poked his food.

“Are you not hungry, dear?” smiled Molly. “Do want go up to your room and have a rest?”

“No, thanks…” Harry smiled weakly and put some food in his fork.

“Is it true that he has locked himself in his apartment?” asked George.

“I have not heard from him for over a month,” said Percy glaring over the table at Ginny, who calmly ate her roast, not saying a word about her secretive superior. “He was going to give me a research report on the geamhradh-rite that the Scottish druid community wanted to perform.”

“Pansy and Luna will have that for you on Monday,” Ginny smiled calmly. “Draco knows what he is doing.”

Harry bit his lip and looked worried, but since this was a common look for him nobody noticed.

“Christmas…” the word buzzed in Draco’s skull.

How was he going to do this? He had never celebrated Christmas, but he wanted it. There was so much information running around he could not catch anything and pin it down. He thought he understood the pure mechanics of it all.

Food, presents and bric-a-brac. It was like a giant puzzle just waiting to be solved and celebrated. He had bought several dolls and other toys and they were now staring accusingly at him, telling him he was doing it wrong, but not explaining how.

He had read Making Christmas so many times he could write it over himself. He had read books and books about elves, reindeers, Santa Claus, evil grinches, mice, gingerbreads and trees. Draco had loved them all, but still… what was it he was searching for?

There were carols playing on his new brand new seedee-apparatus. Why were there almost always same songs on all his round silver discs? The same songs over and over again, sometimes even sung by the same person. He even had a silver disc where there were cats and dogs were growling to the music – What was that about?!

He sighed. Leafing though his book once again.

“Maybe…” he murmured stroking his lips. “Maybe I’m not meant to understand it now… Maybe I’ll know afterwards what is was all about. Just like the war…”

The war! That was it! Draco had not fully understood the war until it was over. Christmas must be the same!

He had been in the middle of the war, too close to see what was really going on. Once his Christmas was over he could take a step back and really grasp what he wanted to know. It was so simple.

With a laugh (that only sounded a little evil) he stood up and flooed to his office where his girl-team was waiting.

“This year!” he pronounced as he arrived. “This year Christmas will be ours!”

Luna, Pansy and Ginny just looked at each other, shrugged and applauded enthusiastically.

Draco Malfoy arrived to the Burrow with a bang (he threw the door open in his enthusiasm) and a scarf (still red). Ginny was on his heals, looking nervous. Draco took in the house: clean, cosy, nice smell. Well, you learn something new every day.

“Mrs Weasley!” he called, striding into the house like it was not his first time there. “Mrs Weasley,” he sang(!).

Molly looked absolutely terrified as she peaked out from her kitchen, ladle in hand. Arthur, sitting by the fire going over office reports, stopped with his teacup halfway to his lips. There was a thump upstairs as Potter suddenly stood on the landing. That’s right, he was living here now. Draco took a pause to take in the vision of the handsome man, still dressed in pyjamas at noon. He did not look bad at all. Too bad he was barmy.

“Mrs Weasley!” Draco stomped into the kitchen on his long legs. “As you know, I’m taking Christmas this year!” he eyed the chubby witch staring up at him. “I want you to test out some recipes for me, maybe spice them up a little? Seriously, I told Bippy to follow this and the cookies tasted bland!” He held out a parchment with instructions he copied from his beloved book.

“I…” Molly took the parchment with shaking hands. “I… usually double up on the spices when reading recipes…”

“See!” Draco pulled up his copy of Making Christmas from his pocket, it enlarged in his hands. “I knew you could do it! Oh, they will talk about this Christmas for years to come!”

He made a magic copy of the book and thrust it upon her. Molly looked like she was going to faint.

“No doubt…” murmured Potter, who had come down at was standing in the doorway, rubbing his arms awkwardly.

Draco raised an eyebrow. Potter gave him a shy smile. Draco blushed.

“What, Potter?”

“I’m worried…” about you

Draco cleared his throat before he could loose himself in those green eyes.

“I’ll be off then!” he cleared his throat again, regaining his composure. “I’ll send over some more things later. Ginerva! Onwards! We got work to do! Thirty four days ‘til Christmas!”

With that he left the same way he came, though the door with a bang.

“Better take a copy on mine, mom,” said Ginny stepping forward and making a duplicate of her own book. “Draco’s looks a little worse for wear.”

“Oh,” Molly looked down at the ratty book. “Thank you, dear.”

“I’ll take it,” Harry stepped up and grabbed the tattered copy, then hugging it to his chest like a prize.

Draco sat down at a hidden away table at the Leaky Cauldron. He had put his hood up over his recognizable hair and was turning a glass of fire whisky on the table.

“You called us?” Blaise Zabini sat down next to him.

Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass slipped into the chairs opposite.

“I have a job for you,” Draco sipped at his glass.

“And we thought you didn’t like us Draco,” grinned Daphne.

He didn’t, much, but they got the job done. The three was a treasure trove of seedy information, contacts and supplies. If you wanted anything done, which was not entirely legal, very rare or both, these three was were to turn. Draco had used them before, sometimes for getting special things for Halloween, but also other more darker matters.

Draco slid a small piece of parchment over the table. Theo’s eyes widened a little as he read. Daphne smiled wickedly.

“Leave my father out of this!” warned Draco

“Of course,” Theo smiled and turned to note over to Blaise. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good,” Draco gulped down his drink and left.

The three half criminals looked after him with smirks on their faces that they wouldn’t dare to show to his face. They emptied their own glasses in silence and then hurried of to the nearest Apparation point.

It was Daphne who talked first.

“Kidnap Longbottom? Where can we hide him?”

“I want to do it!” Blaise jumped a little. “Let’s lock him up and throw away the key!”

“Where?” sneered Theo. “Your bed? Longbottom is straight.”

“He is too cute to be straight,” muttered Blaise and walked over to his desk to sit down on the tabletop. “Anyway, I can turn anyone!”

Daphne rolled her eyes.

“We’ll just grab him and give him to Mr. Malfoy. He has plenty of good hiding places, and he owes us for that dragon egg he wanted.”

“If we give Longbottom to Mr. Malfoy he will cook him rare,” laughed Theo.

“You mean Draco will cook us rare!” exclaimed Blaise. “He will beat us black and green!”

“Are you scared of Draco?” Theo grinned.

“Yes, and if you are not you are just dumb!”

“I’m not dumb!”

“Shut up!” Daphne cast a hex that slapped them both over the head. “We will get Longbottom. We will hide him at Mr. Malfoy’s house. Understand?!”

Both men rubbed their cheeks sourly, but nodded.

Draco leaned over his kitchen table. He was going over everything again. Of course he had gone over Longbottom’s schedule for the Christmas party and found it deeply lacking. Draco could do this much better, and he would. It was not easy to hijack a holiday, but he was getting good on the way to do it.

He tapped his lips as his eyes wandered to the Christmas tree that he had spent the evening decorating. It did not look like in the book… Double the spices Mrs. Weasley had said. Maybe that did not apply to decorations. Shouldn’t you actually be able to see the tree? What was the point of having a tree indoors if you just were going to hide it? Was he tying too hard?

His thoughts were interrupted by the chiming of his doorbell. He looked at the time. Nearly ten, who was coming over this late? And how had it become this late in the first place? Draco shook his head, as he rose from the table. He had been loosing his track of time in the last few days.

Harry Potter was standing outside his door with a wicker basket. Draco tilted his head, suddenly worried. What had happened? Was Potter even allowed to go out alone?

“Potter?”

“Ginny said that you have been really busy lately, with you helping Neville with Christmas and so on…” he blushed and almost thrust the basket at Draco. “I made you some food, just a stew, and some cookies… “

Draco took the basked and lifted the plaid cloth that was covering it. Oh, chocolate! And a bottle of lemonade. He all of a sudden felt very hungry; he had not eaten since lunch.

“It’s very nice of you, Harry,” Draco used the name as you talk to someone to placate them. “But are you supposed to be here?”

“I’m not a child!” Harry pouted and looked at his shoes. “I had a breakdown…”

“’A breakdown’?” Draco raised an eyebrow.

“Fine, three breakdowns…”

“You derailed a Muggle train…”

“Not on purpose…”

There was a crackle of magic in the air. Harry suddenly looked panicked. Draco placed a hand on his arm to calm him down. It worked better than expected because the magic immediately fell silent.

“Thank you for the food.”

“I made it myself,” Harry blushed again and looked adorable.

“So much better,” Draco conceded.

“I have to go. Molly always checks in on me at half past ten.” He hesitated. “Be careful with what ever you are doing. I worry about you.”

Before Draco had time to say anything more Harry was gone. Draco looked down at the basket. Well, that was nice of him… Really nice…

“…And try to find a Santa Claus this year that is actually fat,” said Neville Longbottom to his wife and assistant Katie over the floo. “The one that we had last year kept deflating…”

“But it was funny, though,” she laughed.

“You are getting on my naughty-list, sweetheart.”

“Promise?”

There was a knock on the door behind him. Neville rose from his seating position in front of the fireplace.

“That must be Johnsson with the snow samples,” he stretched a little. “See you later, love you.”

“Love you too,” the floo disconnected,

Neville sighed. He did enjoy Christmas, but he was glad it only came around once a year. It was the only holiday he was responsible for in WHACCO. Springs and Summers he kept to his greenhouses, leaving the holidays to others. He loved Christmas, but he looked forward to January, and a full month of vacation. He opened the door.

No Johnsson. But there was a Christmas gift on the floor. Red paper and golden stings. Neville bent down to take it and was quickly pulled away by the feeling of a hook under his navel.

Pansy and Luna stood in their workshop where they usually worked on things for Halloween and their other holydays. There were blueprints of Jack-o-lanterns and skeletons pinned on the walls. Trained spiders were spinning patterns in their webs. The bat cage was full of sleeping critters. A black board filled with runes describing a wicca marriage rite was pushed into a corner.

Luna was polishing the set of silver athame-knives with a floral rag, humming to herself.

“Making Christmas,” muttered Pansy looking though her book for the millionth time – it was getting boring. “Making Christmas, that’s all he talks about.”

“They are going to be so surprised,” smiled Luna and took up another blade for shining. “I’m really looking forward to this. Daddy always took me Horklump-hunting on Christmas. He said that that’s when they mate. We never found any…” she inspected the runes on the knife. “… and I was always too late for any party, once they started to invite me that is.”

“My mother liked Christmas,” sighed Pansy. “But Father hated it. Mother always took me and my brother to her room at Christmas morning and gave us presents and candy in secret. Father celebrated Yule though, but it always felt so stuffy.”

“I like Draco’s Yule parties,” sighed Ginny, who just joined them. “They are usually full of dancing. He is not really putting an effort this year. Gwendelyn’s Gourmet is very nice and all, but…”

“Has Draco talked to Percy or Neville?” Pansy was trying to use her wand following instructions from Making Christmas to fold and cut a paper snowflake. “I have not heard anything about that. Do we even know if he is allowed to do this? Oh!”

Her snowflake had come out as a row of paper bats.

“He says it’s ours this time,” shrugged Ginny. “I don’t want to go behind his back on this. Let’s just go with it…”

“I have made some wrapping paper of my own!” declared Luna raising her wand.

A small pile of presents was conjured up in the table. They were beautifully wrapped in multicoloured paper and big bows. Luna held up one of the boxes and hugged it.

“Oh, this is pretty!” Ginny took a small box the size of a brick; the paper was blue with animated silver mice running around.

“What’s in them?” asked Pansy looking over a present with green snakes slithering around it.

“Just some left over stuff from Halloween,” Luna opened her box and showed a chocolate spider displaying its liquorice fangs.

“That’s smart thinking,” nodded Pansy. “Do you have those sugar violet worms? I loved those.”

“Here,” Luna lifted the lid of a box decorated with twirling trees and showed the purple, worms smelling like violets and sugar.

Pansy took two of the wiggly things in her hand and stuffed them in her mouth. A popping sound announced Draco Apparating into the room. His eyes lit up at the sight of the presents on the table.

“This is wonderful!” he grinned taking a violet worm and putting it in his mouth. “I love these.” He looked thoughtful at the box of crawlers for a moment. “Worms are not very Christmassy, are they?”

“I’m sure we can make them taste like ginger…” Pansy eyed the candy. “Let me work on it in the lab…”

“You are a genius,” smiled Draco. “I have known you where a genius ever since you used a bat instead of a rat to transfigure that hat.”

“I just love saying that!” exclaimed Luna. “Bat, rat, hat…”

“Well it looked nicer,” blushed Pansy. “It was a most delightful hat.”

“Time for work, ladies!” Draco clapped his hands. “Time for making Christmas!”

“Well, well, well,” smiled Lucius Malfoy wickedly. “What do we have here? Mr. Longbottom?”

“Please Mr. Malfoy,” Neville got to his feet in the ruddy dungeon in which he spent the last hour. “It must have been a mistake. I don’t know how I got here.”

“You are joking, surely?” Lucius crossed his arms over his chest and eyed his new prisoner.

Blaise Zabini had said that they wanted to use his dungeons to store something for Draco. Lucius had agreed but had been too curios to leave it alone and now he was standing in front of the bars looking in on a very nervous Neville Longbottom.

He ought to be nervous, grinned Lucius. As the only legally Dark wizard in the country, Lucius had the authority to take prisoners for testing, as long as they did not get permanently damaged or died – but everything was relative.

“Realise me, please,” Neville came up to the bars. “I have important business.”

“What business?”

“I’m responsible for the Ministry Christmas party and it’s eight days away, and…”

“You got to be joking,” sneered Lucius. “Christmas, idiotic Muggle invention… When I was a child we had Winter Solace Rites, now that was fun. We used to sacrifice a pig… Do you sacrifice pigs on your parties?”

“Err… we serve ham?” Neville looked unsure.

Lucius just stared at him, raised eyebrow and all.

“I have to look to my potions,” he finally said. “I have a special batch of snake and spider venom brewing.”

“Realise me now!” Neville shook the bars in sudden anger. “There will be consequences! I’m expected!”

“You are quite amusing, Mr. Longbottom. I think I’m going to make you assist me in a little experiment.”

“What… What are you going to do?”

Lucius smiled evily as he observed the blood drain from his prisoner’s face.

“I’m going to do the best I can…”

“Realise me!”

“You are not going anywhere, Mr. Longbottom.”

Harry stood by his window and looked out over the Burrow’s garden. It had snowed that night so everything was covered in white. A band of garden gnomes tuffed though the snow looking for mischief, leaving a trail of small footsteps behind. Harry opened the window and took a deep breath.

It was something in the wind today. Not just that it was the twentieth of December and a spirit of Yule was hanging it the air. Harry had already decided not to sneak of to the Yule feast. What was the point of torturing himself with the sight of Draco? But three nights he had heard that Neville was missing. Draco had denied having seen him, but Harry knew that tragedy was at hand. Ron was on the case. Draco was not aware what a tight rope he was walking.

He wanted to believe Draco when he said he did not know what had happened to Neville. But I will carry on his work ‘til his return, don’t worry, Draco had declared. Harry felt it in his gut that something was not right, especially with Draco’s recent obsession with Christmas. First he had thought that Draco only wanted to have a Christmas party of his own. But with Neville gone, Draco could take over the Ministry fest. Harry had read the tattered copy of the book several times now, and all of the notes in the margin. Obsession.

Even if the feeling of love was new, Harry had been obsessed with Draco Malfoy for quite a while now. The obsession had defined him once, and perhaps still did. But did Draco notice? He thought of when he had gone to Draco’s flat with the food. Draco had treated him kindly, but weary – like he was afraid that harry would blow up or break. And Harry almost had…

It was not meant to be. Him and Draco? What a laugh. If they ever got together, the world would be against it. And why would Draco want him? Harry took another breath of the ill wind. He was broken, a bundle of shattered nerves and wild magic. No, Harry was not the one for Draco…

But he would find Neville and save him. If Neville was back, and Harry convinced him not to press charges, Draco would be safe. That was the kind of that stuff Harry did, wasn’t it? Or at least what he used to do. He could only think of one place where Neville could be.

“Are you a gambling man, Mr Longbottom?” asked Lucius smoothly.

“Not really…” Neville glanced at the two ominous looking vials of potion that Lucius had put on the table before him.

It was the forth day of his imprisonment. Lucius had been a good host, but Neville had also been the victim of several tests. Several potions, some charms and even a ritual involving more chickens than he cared to count. In another time and setting, it would actually be quite fascinating.

The chair Neville was sitting in had him in a tight grip that prevented him from moving. Lucius had been cordially enough to make sure he was comfortable. During the walks from the dungeons, where Neville slept in a soft bed, Lucius pointed out things if interest like portraits and architecture.

Now Lucius was standing before him tossing a Galleon in the air over and over again.

“What do you say?” the Malfoy leered holding up the coin. “Ministry seal; the green potion, crossed wands; the blue?”

Neville bit his lip; he was not getting out of this one. He still did not understand why he had been taken here, but he had a growing suspicion that it had something to do with Draco Malfoy. The man had seemed too interested in Neville’s work lately, and he had looked at him funny more than once during the last days. Lucius flicked the coin again, standing nose to nose with Neville.

Then the Dark wizard whirled around so fast that Neville got hit in the face by a ponytail of long blond hair.

“Stupify!”

Neville could here a gasp and then the sound of something falling to the floor. As Lucius moved out of his line of sight, he saw Harry stiff on the floor.

“My, my, my, Potter…” Lucius chuckled. “That would have worked before, but now… tut, tut…” He levitated Harry to a similar chair as Neville’s, it grabbed hold of him immediately. “You have too much wild and uncontrolled magic in you, boy,” Lucius almost looked pitying as he patted the unruly dark hair. “You could not possibly think that you could seek up on me in my own home like that?”

He levitated Harry’s chair so that it was placed next to Neville’s.

“Good news, Mr. Longbottom,” he smiled. “There is no need for the coin toss; we have a new volunteer!”

“This is it?” whispered the Minister’s wife disappointedly to her husband.

The Minister just shrugged and took a plate from the Smorgasbord. Draco narrowed his eyes. What was wrong with it?

He looked around Gwendelyn’s Gourmet, it was enlarged with wizarding space and satisfactorily decorated in white and silver. Everything looked proper. The guests were all wearing their best clothes. A string quartet was discreetly plying in the corner. The spread on the table was beautifully displayed. Then why did it feel like a funeral? His funeral? Draco adjusted his robes; it was just because he looked forward to Christmas. Yule-Schmule.

“Malfoy!” Ron Weasley came up to him with a plate ladled with a small mountain of food. “We have still not heard from Neville…”

“It’s sad what kind of sick people there is out there,” Draco dusted some invisible lint of his silver robes.

“You are you’re my prime suspect you know,” the Auror narrowed his eyes pointing his fork at him. “If I find out you have done anything to Neville, you be in Azkaban before you can blink! Don’t think your records for the war are erased just because you got a pardon. We know what you did!”

With that Ron left, leaving Draco a bit shaken in his wake. He had not thought of it like that. What have I done?

“What’s up boss?”

Ginny was at his side, as well as Pansy and Luna, they where all wearing matching white dress robes, making them look like a female version of the ghosts Christmas past, present and future. Draco shuttered.

“My Christmas is going to be good, right?” he hesitantly bit his lower lip. “Better than any of Longbottom’s? Or anyone’s before?”

“I’ve never been to a Ministry Christmas,” Ginny tilted her head suspiciously. “I can’t really compare… Draco, you did ask for permission to do this, right?”

“What if I didn’t?” Draco whispered and bit his lower lip looking over the room to where Ron stood talking to some other Aurors. “What if I just thought I could take over…”

The three women exchanged looks. They were just as guilty of being swept away by Christmas dreams and thoughts of what they never had.

“I spoiled it all didn’t I?” Draco looked around at the party. “I’ve even spoiled Yule. It could not even be worse if I sacrificed a pig. This is the most boring thing I’ve ever seen…” He took a breath. Fuck “Right…” he pulled out his wand. “Luna, go get all our Christmas decorations and set it up here and now, quickly. Take the music boxes from the storage as well. Ginerva, enlarge the floor and get all the candy, wine and liquor from the lab… Pansy!”

“Yes boss?”

“Distract the Weasel; I’m going to get Longbottom back.”

“No problem,” Pansy determinedly adjusted her ample breasts.

“If I don’t return,” Draco took another deep breath. “I’ll be hiding in some deep cave somewhere. Bury my dust next to mother’s.”

With that he left the room and Apparated away.

“So…” Neville burped up a yellow bubble, “…everyone thought he was working with me?”

“Yes,” Harry hiccupped, felling a little drunk. “I thought of warning them, but they all think I’m mad, sometimes I think so too… Ouch!”

“Don’t be a baby, Mr. Potter,” Lucius placed a blood sample vile under the cut he had just made on Harry’s arm. “And my son would never get obsessed with something as tacky like Christmas.” He corked the vile and healed the cut. “There must be something else behind it…”

“Like what?” Harry tried to focus and curiously looked up at the Dark wizard as he studied the blood against a candle.

Neville burped another bubble, this time it was Gryffindor red. Lucius popped it immediately.

“Well…” Lucius took up a quill from his desk, writing down some facts about Harry’s blood on a parchment. “My guess is that he misses something, and thinks that he can get them though this ridiculous Christmas-thing.”

Harry thought back to the book that Draco was so fond of. He remembered the notes that riddled the pages. His intoxicated mind tried to concentrate on those notes. There had been a picture of a couple kissing under the mistletoe; Draco had circled it several times. Pictures with smiling people had seemed to get the most attention. Words like happy, joy and love had caught the interest of Draco’s quill as well. Harry shook his head, why had he not seen it? He had known ever since Halloween that Draco was just as lonely and miserable as himself. Why had he not made the connection?

“Father.”

Harry looked up from his thoughts to Draco standing in the doorway to the parlour with his wand drawn. The man looked very handsome in his silver robes and Harry almost gave an adoring sigh before he reminded himself that he was not a girl.

“Son,” Lucius stood up from his notes. “I thought you where at your party.”

“I was…” Draco walked slowly inside the room. “But I seem to be missing two guests…”

“Well, come and get them.”

Lucius moved fast, casting a sparkling spell at his son. Draco parried it, moving smoothly and cast a returning hex. It smashed into the wall as Lucius stepped aside throwing a succession of lightning balls as he moved. Gracefully Draco jumped out of the way, grabbed hold of a fire fork by the floo and attacked his father with it rapidly. Lucius deflected the fire fork with a forceful hit by his cane. The magic of their wands met with seething, colourful sparks, fizzing like water on a hot plate. Their intense grey eyes locked under frowning foreheads.

“How dare you treat my friends like this?” growled Draco.

Neville whimpered and burped another bubble, clear this time. Harry gasped, thinking that they were really going to hurt each other. Then… Lucius laughed, and then Draco laughed too. Harry blinked.

The forceful magic died down as fast as it had appeared.

“I was afraid that you had gone soft,” mused Lucius, putting his wand back into his cane.

“Please, me soft?” Draco huffed, dusting his robes. “I’m the Pumpkin King.”

“Yes you are,” nodded Lucius with a pointed look.

Draco turned away from his father with a guilty look on his face. Clearing his throat he moved over to Neville and loosened the grips of the chair.

“I’m sorry, Longbottom. I hope it’s not too late.”

“To save to Christmas party?” Neville shook his head dismissingly. “It’s never too late… But the next time, Draco? When you get a stupid scheme in your head? Ask Harry first!”

With that Neville left the room, burping one last bubble that was no more than a thin clear soap bubble.

Draco shifted again, moving over to Harry. Carefully he untied the restraints.

“All I wanted was to make something great…” Draco whispered.

“I think you are great…” Harry’s face blushed red and he tentively held out his hand, “…what ever you do…”

After a second of hesitation Draco took his hand in his and smiled.

They returned to the Yule party about a half an hour later. Draco had lent Harry a long embroidered green robe from his wardrobe. Lucius had also insisted on going to the party and had changed his formal home robes to his even more formal dress robes.

Harry had been assured that neither he nor Neville had ingested something dangerous. When asked what he was doing with the blood, Lucius had hinted that he might be on to something that could help Harry with his condition. Draco frowned, but Harry let Lucius keep the blood.

The party was in full spin. The Christmas decorations, slightly altered to white colours instead of red, looked beautiful. The music boxes complimented the string quartet wonderfully and there was music everywhere. The smorgasbord was filled with candy and an extra bar had opened up in the corner. House Elves were walking around with trays with finger food and wineglasses. Fairies were dancing in the ceiling, spreading their lights around. The guests laughed and everyone seemed happy, even the minister’s wife.

Draco sighed and held on to Harry’s hand harder. Ginerva and Luna hurried up to them, hugging and smiling. Draco could see Pansy grinning at him from the dance floor, she was inside the tight arms of a slightly intoxicated Weasley (was that a freckled hand on her bum?).

Before anyone knew what happened, Lucius had twirled Luna away to the dance floor. The blond woman looked somewhere between felling terrified and blushing over the constant sting of compliments Lucius was feeding her. Ginerva laughed, and excused herself to look over the bar – She winked to both Draco and Harry before she left.

“I have been a fool,” Draco turned to Harry.

“Yes,” Harry smiled slowly. “But, you had good intentions…”

“I should have…”

Draco was interrupted by a pat on his shoulder. He turned to se Neville holding hands with his wife Katie. Neville nodded at him.

“Marry Christmas,” whispered Draco.

“Happy Halloween,” nodded Neville, and left for the smorgasbord.

As Draco turned back to Harry, the man was no longer there. Looking around, Draco noted him by the wall not far off. Taking two glasses of white wine from a passing house elf, he sauntered over.

“My I join you?”

“Please.” Harry accepted the glass.

They stood together for a while, close, hands intertwined. Lucius gallantly danced passed with Luna, who looked more dreamy eyed than ever, looking up at his face. Weasley was close to molesting Pansy’s neck with drunken kisses and she was just laughing. Percy and Hermione were dancing close like they were the only people in the room.

“Would you do it all again?” asked Harry.

Draco looked out over the festive room, feeling complete for the first time.

“Wouldn’t you?” smiled the Pumpkin King softly and then turned to place a kiss on Harry’s lips.

---The End---