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mini_fest2010-12-21 02:46 pm
mini_fest_mod) wrote in mini_fest2010-12-21 02:46 pm
Fic: In the right hands
Title: In the Right Hands
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sesheta_66
Rating: PG
Characters: Draco/Harry, Pansy, Ron
Prompt(s): Short prompt #24 - Secret Santa gift exchange; and long prompt #24 - Draco loses his wish list at school. Guess who finds it?
Warnings: None.
Summary: Faced with a mandatory Secret Santa gift exchange, Draco is unimpressed. After much deliberation, he comes up with a list safe enough to submit. One short shopping trip later, he's done and is left feeling much better about the whole thing. Until he starts receiving gifts that don't seem to be from his Secret Santa.
Word Count: ~6K
Disclaimer: If it sounds familiar to you, I don't own it. The lovely JK Rowling and her rights-holders do. Boo. D: No infringement intended and no monetary gain results from this fiction.
A/N: Thanks to L and A for the quick beta.
In the Right Hands
by Anonymous
"Attention students," Headmistress McGonagall announced. "This month, with Christmas approaching ..."
Draco groaned. "I swear these monthly social announcements are just a way to call attention to Granger." He glared at the Gryffindor table. "Just look at her, all smug."
Pansy snorted. "You may be right. She does love her role as Chair, but I'll admit this one should be fun." She smirked. "Oh, do close your mouth, Draco. Something might fly in there."
"We're in the Great Hall." He glared at her. She shrugged. "And what do you mean it should be fun?"
"Just listen and you'll find out."
" ... Secret Santa," McGonagall said with all the enthusiasm of Binns.
"What?" Draco whispered. Pansy shushed him and motioned towards McGonagall.
" ... complete a wish list. Everyone is expected to participate, and the magical charm on the chest will ensure that no one submits more than one list. The chest will collect all the wish lists, match them up, and hand the assigned ones out." She looked about as enthusiastic about the whole affair as Draco felt. "The gift exchange will remain anonymous, to both the giver and the receiver."
The hall erupted in a mass of hands waving about and questions being thrown at the Headmistress.
"Any questions you may have can be directed to one of your House's representatives from the Social Committee." And with that, she stepped back to the head table and resumed sipping her tea, looking dubiously at Granger.
Draco turned to ask Pansy more, but as one of the two Slytherin representatives on the Social Committee, she'd been swarmed.
"How does it know not to match me with someone that hates me? Like some Gryffindor?" a young first-year whimpered.
"Yeah. I don't want some shoddy gift from a Gryffindork," a sixth-year Beater agreed.
"Or something hideous from a sappy Hufflepuff," a rough-looking fifth year girl whined.
Pansy raised her hand to stop the barrage of questions. "You'll all shut it while I explain." She looked to Draco for support, but he merely raised a brow. She was on her own with this. Honestly. Who came up with such a horrific idea anyway?
"The whole purpose of the Social Committee is to come up with ideas to support inter-house unity." She raised her arm again. "I said shut it. You can whine all you want later, but you'll hear me out."
Draco watched the crowd cower before her. All except the Beater who satisfied himself with a roll of his eyes. Pansy had come into her own this year, helped rather than hurt by being thrust into her social role. Of course, Potter telling her in front of the entire school that he didn't hold a grudge had helped.
"You fill in the form with your ten wishes for Christmas. Some suggestions about how to come up with a good mix of options are listed on the parchment. You want to give the person who gets you as a gift recipient a good shot at making you happy with the gift you receive. Since you won't know who will be getting you something, be creative." She became animated now, and it was clear to Draco that she was excited.
"Also, when you receive your list, remember that the person won't know who gave them their gift. In other words, think of what you might like, how you might feel receiving what you're giving, and go with that. You might have drawn your worst enemy or your best friend, someone who likes you or someone you like. You never know."
Draco watched the Beater - Smythe, Summerby, he couldn't remember - rub his hands together and grin maliciously. He nudged Pansy and motioned towards the idiot. She grinned and her eyes sparkled.
"And to those that think they'll be smart and give a gag gift or something nasty, the charms on the chest are ready for that. Not only do you give and receive wish lists via the chest, but the gifts are exchanged through there also."
The second years gaped at Pansy. "How is that even possible?" one whispered.
Pansy winked at them. "A fancy collection of very difficult spells," she announced. "Plus the chest is a magical object in its own right. The chest has received the full list of Hogwarts students, and whatever information the Social Committee and staff were able to provide, including friends, enemies, likes, dislikes, etc."
Draco knew now why Pansy had been so busy over the past few weeks. Then he realised -- "You talked about your house mates with the Committee?" he asked, appalled at the betrayal.
"Don't be daft," she said. "We deposited our information into the chest, just as you will your lists. The magic filters through all the information it receives and responds accordingly. It's an ancient magic, not unlike that used in the Goblet of Fire." A few gasps sounded. "But there is no fear of death by gifts," she assured them with a grin.
"Fill in your lists and drop them in the chest. It collects them until every student has submitted one. At that time, it sorts them based on the best matches. You receive your list - handwriting disguised - and two gift tags. Select one gift from the list to give. Once you have the gift ready, place one tag on the gift and the other in the chest. Your gift will be transported to a room where the house-elves will wrap it. Christmas morning, all the gifts will be delivered to the dorms. No one but you and the chest will know who sent which gift to whom."
"But what if I hate my gift?" someone asked.
"When your gift has been collected, it is matched against the list. The chest will reject any gift found not to match the request, or to be given in bad faith."
"Wow!" a first-year girl said, her eyes wide. "That's the best return policy ever!"
Draco couldn't help but laugh. She had a point.
"So," Pansy asked, "any questions?"
A few people asked about details, but Draco simply took the parchment, shoved it into his rucksack, and left for class.
At the end of the day, when he took his books out in the library, he came across the parchment. He'd forgotten about it in the rush of class. Right up to his free class at the end of the day, Mondays were his busiest, and he'd barely had time for lunch. He enjoyed the quiet of the nearly empty library and read it over, wondering what he could possibly want from someone at school.
Draco stared at the page, wondering what to submit. He took out a scrap of parchment and begin scribbling down ideas. Personal? Ha! He'd never be fool enough to put down something personal. Besides, didn't that go against the anonymity part anyway?
He struggled to come up with ten items that didn't go over the limit. Honestly! Who wanted some trinket worth one Galleon anyway? He thought about Hogsmeade and jotted down some Honeydukes products. Some books weren't pricey. Maybe a scarf.
His mind wandered and he found himself doodling. Before he realised, final class let out and students began filtering in. Madam Pince chastised a group of giggling Hufflepuff girls as a pair of Ravenclaws glared at them for daring to disrupt the sanctity of the room.
He scanned his haphazard notes for some innocuous items.
Draco transferred some to the form and expanded on a couple to complete the list.
He hoped the last one wouldn't cause the chest to spit back his list, but if it did, he'd replace it with a scarf or some other WWW product. Not particularly original, but then none of these things were. He only hoped his gift recipient was as considerate.
Satisfied, Draco rolled up the form and spelled it closed with a tap of his wand. He couldn't wait for this to be over.
He searched his Ancient Runes notes for the name of a book he wanted to consult - the reason he'd come to the library in the first place and before he'd become distracted. He found it just in time for a crowd of Gryffindors to saunter in. Weasley glared at him. Draco sneered back.
"There's no room for all of us," Potter said. Just noticing Draco, he nodded. "Malfoy." The lack of animosity in his tone still threw Draco off, even after three months of school.
"Potter." Draco placed the reference book on the table and began gathering his things. "I'm leaving, so you can take this table."
Potter smiled. Another thing Draco couldn't reconcile with the Potter of the past. "Thanks."
Weasley tossed his books onto the table and slid into a chair before Draco had finished packing up. "Don't leave on our account," he said. Neanderthal.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Draco retorted. He slung his rucksack over his shoulder and left.
As Draco approached the door, Potter's voice followed. "Don't be such an arse, Ron."
Draco grinned all the way to the Great Hall where he deposited his form into the chest. After a few moments, when the chest didn't reject it, Draco made his way back to Slytherin.
***
Thursday arrived and McGonagall announced that only five students had yet to enter their names. She gave them until the end of the day to enter, so that people would have time to review their lists before heading into Hogsmeade on Saturday. The lower years would be given the opportunity to go into town on a supervised visit the following weekend.
When Draco received his gift list on Friday, he breathed a sigh of relief. Not much different from his own. He could pick up a selection of treats and still keep the total under the limit set. And it would take up less than a quarter of an hour of his free time. All in all, this was turning out far better than he'd feared. He wondered briefly how many people would be receiving Honeydukes chocolate through this exchange.
When Draco returned to his dorm, he found a gift-wrapped package on his bed. Strange. The gift exchange wasn't for a while yet. A quick series of Revealing Charms identified nothing of concern, so he carefully unwrapped it. Honeydukes chocolate and a collection of high-end sweets. No card attached. He considered the possible source and grinned. He'd thank Pansy at dinner.
"It wasn't me," she said when he approached her.
"It wasn't?"
"That's what I said, dear. Do keep up." She led the way into the Great Hall.
"If you didn't send it, then who did?"
She frowned. "A secret admirer? A social-climbing youngster? How should I know?" she asked.
Draco thought about his house mates. Not one except Pansy would buy him anything, he was sure. But how did the gift get into his dorm room if it wasn't from a Slytherin? He decided not to eat the chocolate for now. He'd try a few more spells to detect any tampering before he'd run the risk. But he'd keep it, just in case it turned out to be safe.
The next morning he woke to find another package, a larger one. This time a note was attached: Hope you enjoyed the chocolate.
Again, no charms or poisons detected. Stranger still was that Draco couldn't work out who had sent it either, despite the numerous spells he cast on the note. Someone had done a good job of hiding their identity, which ruled out the young social climbers Pansy had suggested. No one below fifth year, possibly sixth, would have the magical knowledge and experience to pull that off. Brushing aside the fact that he had few friends in upper years, Draco opened it anyway.
Inside was a set of eight exquisitely-crafted quills, and five ink bottles - three black and one each of red and blue. When he lifted the tray holding the quills and ink, it revealed five packages of quality parchment. Draco had no idea who sent this or why, but it was most certainly over the limit of the Secret Santa. Though he remained wary, he ran his fingers along the feather's edge of the longest quill, itching to write with it.
Underneath the parchment lay a single envelope with a note attached: "If you want to reach me."
This had to be some kind of joke. He'd had a rough go when he'd returned, but with the professors pushing unity, the Social Committee introducing inter-house activities, and the Prophet printing Potter's testimony at Draco's trial, he'd been left to himself on the most part. If one didn't count the Weasleys. Fortunately, Draco didn't.
Was someone taking advantage of this gift exchange to get to Draco? Have him let down his guard? He wondered who had set the spells on the chest, and if perhaps Granger wasn't as accepting as she appeared.
***
Draco confronted Pansy at breakfast. "You've had your laugh, now fess up," he said. He still hoped she was the one sending the parcels.
She frowned and swallowed a mouthful of sausage down with some pumpkin juice. "What are you on about?"
"First the box of sweets, and now the quills."
"No idea what you mean."
He scowled. "If not you, then it must be that chest," he said, confident he'd worked out the puzzle. "It hasn't protected my anonymity or disguised my handwriting. Whoever got my list must know who I am."
"Impossible," Pansy argued. "Besides, there's a limit, and it sounds like that quill set alone went far beyond."
"True. And that would explain the person sending the packages directly to me, instead of through the exchange." He gave her a wry smile.
"I didn't send them." She drummed her fingers on the table, an irritating habit she had whenever she worked out a problem. "I don't think it's because of the gift exchange," she said at length. "Think about it. I'd venture that nearly everyone put sweets on their list, and a fair few would have listed quills, ink and parchment too."
She might be right. "Perhaps."
"These two gifts could have been for anyone. I just think whoever sent you these took advantage of the Hogsmeade trip, and now doesn't want to wait to give you them." She moved a sausage around her plate, her face growing more serious. "Promise me you'll take them to Slughorn to check for any nasty spells or poisons," she said.
He nodded, already planning to do that. No matter his faults, their Head of House could always be counted on for discretion. "I have Potions first thing," Draco said. "I'll slip in a few minutes early."
***
The third package greeted him the next morning. Once more he detected no dark magic and could not identify the sender. Slughorn had no more success with the first two, and had declared them perfectly safe.
"Good idea to have Slughorn check the packages. I'd have done the same," the note said. How did --? "Still working on the easy-to-get ones, I hope you find this next gift practical and educational." Inside was a full potions kit, including three knives of varying metals, numerous phials and measuring devices, and a full store of standard ingredients.
Practical and educational. Easy to get. Obviously references to the gift exchange, but how had the person figured him out? You've always excelled at Potions, Pansy would say. No reason to suspect the chest. Grudgingly, he resisted the temptation to break open the kit and he went to eat.
He said nothing about the latest gift to Pansy. She'd been talking animatedly with others at the table and he didn't get a moment even if he'd wanted to tell her. He spent most of his day preoccupied.
By the time he'd retired for the evening, he'd determined that the person was either in his Potions class or walking past. That meant one of fifteen students, at most.
The fourth package lay at the foot of his bed the next day. "Something frivolous and silly, to help get you through History of Magic." Inside was a Weasley Wizarding Wheeze patented daydream.
The next day arrived with yet another package. "Something fun and practical this time." Draco tore off the wrapping to find a book on Quidditch strategy, a broom maintenance kit, and a snitch. Inside was another note: "Maybe this is your year for the Cup. But that you'll have to earn." Beneath the note was a gift certificate towards the purchase of a new broomstick from Quality Quidditch Supplies.
Draco's brain registered something he'd missed the day before. He hadn't mentioned Binns on the list he'd put in the chest. Nor had he included a new broom or winning the House Cup. But he had written all that on -- Oh, shit!
He dumped the contents of his rucksack onto his bed and flipped through all his notes and books. Shit, shit, shit! No familiar scrap of paper with -- Merlin, what had he written on it again? His stomach flipped. No! No wonder they knew who he was - he'd put Slytherin on the House Cup he'd drawn.
He began to pace, his stomach churning as he recalled all that he'd written. Now someone else had that note and was taunting him with these gifts. He looked at the collection in his trunk. They had all seemed genuine. Even when Draco had checked them for spells and asked Slughorn to do the same, he'd hoped - somewhere in the back of his mind - that the gifts had been sent in good faith. That someone cared enough to do this for him. He looked at the quill set again. Whoever it was had money.
Then Draco remembered the envelope and its message. He retrieved it, then scribbled a quick note. "Who are you?" He resisted the urge to write, "Give me back my note." As obvious as it might seem, Draco could claim the note wasn't his, so long as he didn't admit to writing it. He put the note inside the envelope, and the moment he closed the flap, it disappeared. He stared at his palm, trying to work out who in the school knew that kind of magic.
When the envelope reappeared a few minutes later, Draco hesitated. If the person didn't admit who he or she was, he'd go to Quality Quidditch Supplies. There was no amount indicated on the certificate, which meant either an account with funds on deposit, or a regular customer. He'd have to find some way to get that name.
Draco took out the note.
Draco waved his wand over the page. As expected, the spell revealed nothing.
He didn't write back. His instincts screamed for him to get to the bottom of it all, play it safe and ensure he wasn't being tricked. But something inside him, something about the tone of the letter, told him to trust this person. Against his better judgement, he decided to keep this exchange to himself, and he went down to breakfast.
The next morning he received a book: Studying Tips for Mastering Your Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. The note attached said, "Not that you need this, but it couldn't hurt."
The following morning, the box contained a pair of black gloves made of the softest leather; they fit perfectly. A note inside said, "I would have picked out a scarf and sweater, but shopping for clothes isn't exactly my strength. I think you'd agree." A gift certificate for Gladrags Wizardwear was enclosed.
Dawn greeted Draco the following day with a heavy box and a longer-than-usual note:
Inside was an ornately carved stone Pensieve.
The next morning, Draco found no gift. He tried to fight his disappointment, but he'd got used to receiving gifts every day. It was ridiculous, sure, but the parcels had given him something to look forward to, something he'd been hard-pressed to find this school year. He tried to remember what all he'd put on the list. It could be that every wish possible to fill had been filled. Reluctantly he got himself ready and went down for breakfast.
***
An indistinct brown owl deposited an envelope in front of Draco when the post arrived. He broke the seal - Ministry of Magic - and opened the letter.
Potter.
Draco had begun to suspect days ago, but this was all the confirmation he needed. It had to be Potter. Draco found the familiar black head of hair at the Gryffindor table, but Potter didn't look up. It was too coincidental that Draco's wand just happened to be returned now. And Draco didn't believe in coincidence. No one else - certainly no one from school - would be able to influence the Ministry to release Draco's wand to him. Most Death Eaters' wands had been destroyed after the war. Of course, most of them were dead or in Azkaban.
But ... Draco recalled what else had been on the note. Fuck. He felt his face grow warm and he looked away. What was Potter playing at anyway? He left the Great Hall and waited for Potter to leave.
When the trio walked past, Draco knew he couldn't face Potter with Weasley around. But he wasn't going to wait. With a wave of his wand, Potter's rucksack broke and its contents spilled onto the corridor floor. Potter waved the other two off and bent over to pick up his things.
When Granger and Weasley rounded the corner, Draco came out of hiding.
"What are you playing at?" Draco hovered over Potter, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the speccy git.
Potter looked up at Draco, back down at his belongings on the ground, then back at Draco, confused. "I would have thought that was obvious," he said as he shoved a book into his rucksack - which then poked out the hole at the bottom. "I'm picking up my stuff."
"Not that!" Draco said. He waved his wand and the hole repaired itself. He then elevated the rest of Potter's belongings and floated them off to the side, into an alcove out of the way of passing students.
Potter frowned, then seemed to feel this was acceptable, and followed his things. He inspected the repair job Draco did, muttered a thanks, and packed the rest of his belongings into the bag. When Potter stood, Draco pushed him back into the wall.
"Malfoy!"
Draco held his wand - his soon to be replaced wand, he reminded himself - under Potter's neck. "I'll ask you again, Potter." Draco was pleased his hand remained steady. "What are you playing at?"
Potter shoved Draco's wand hand away. "Are you mad?" he asked.
Draco looked round to be sure no one could hear. "Why have you been sending me gifts?" he whispered.
Potter's shoulders relaxed. "Finally worked it out, did you?"
"I'm not some charity case, Potter."
"Clearly." The idiot had the audacity to laugh. "Is that what you think this is about?"
Draco relaxed a fraction and put his wand away. They both knew he wouldn't use it anyway. "What other reason would you have?"
"I dunno. 'Tis the season and all that."
"So I'm not some pet project for Potter the Saviour?"
"No." Potter rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, Malfoy, I've noticed that you're alone a lot this year, and I know how that feels. Sometimes it's just nice to know we're not as alone as we think." Thankfully Potter's eyes remained fixed on the floor, or he'd have seen Draco's jaw drop. "Besides," -- Potter looked up with a grin -- "who doesn't like presents?"
"Who indeed," Draco agreed, still wary and not sure what to make of the situation.
Potter reached out his hand. "I thought maybe we could start over. Who knows? Without a war looming over our heads and people urging us to take sides, we might even become friends."
"But ..."
"A wise man once told me that it's our choices that make us who we are," he said, still offering his hand in friendship. "Sometimes we make the wrong ones. And sometimes we get a second chance to do the right thing."
Draco's eyes widened as the meaning of Potter's words sank in. He took the proffered hand as he'd wished Potter would have done those many years ago. As Potter grinned, Draco couldn't help but smile in return.
***
Draco skipped class and went to the Ministry to retrieve his wand. Surprisingly, McGonagall had understood and allowed him to use the Floo.
When he returned, Draco used the envelope to send Potter a note: "I'd like to talk. Could we meet after class?"
Potter replied: Astronomy Tower, 4:00?
The Astronomy Tower? Was that some kind of joke? Had he been planning to confront Draco all along, in the place where Dumbledore had died?
No. Somehow Draco knew that hadn't been the case. He, for whatever reason, believed that Potter wasn't out to get him, that his offer of friendship was genuine.
The Astronomy Tower, Potter? People might talk.
As soon as the envelope vanished, Draco regretted his words. Shit. He and Potter didn't joke.
People always talk. What's the matter, Malfoy? Scared?
Draco laughed. Apparently they could joke. Who knew?
See you at 4:00.
***
"You showed up," Potter said as Draco walked through the door. "Not worried about rumours?"
"Says he who has sent me how many gifts this week?"
Potter grinned. "Ah, but no one else knows."
Draco walked to the edge and looked over, shuddering from more than just the cold breeze. "How do you know I haven't told everyone?"
"I wouldn't care if you did," Potter said. Draco turned round and raised a brow. Potter shrugged, then seemed to register where Draco stood. "Shit. I didn't think--" He joined Draco at the wall. "I find it calming up here." He turned to Draco. "You know Dumbledore was already dying, right? And that he'd arranged with Snape to ... well."
Draco nodded and wrapped his arms around himself. The breeze cut right through him.
Potter stepped closer and waved his wand. Draco felt a rush of warm air. "Did you want to go somewhere else?" Potter asked.
Draco thought about the most private place they could meet - the Room of Hidden Things. He didn't think he was ready to face Vince's ghost just yet. "I'm fine," he said. He reached into his pocket and drew out his wand. "I presume that you are to thank for the return of this."
Potter shrugged. "I didn't realise they hadn't returned it to you," he said, "until I saw your note. Then I noticed you using that other wand."
"So you, what? Told them to give it back, and they just did it?"
"Yeah, right." Potter snorted. "You clearly think I have far more influence than I do." Draco waved his wand in front of Potter's face. "I just reminded Kingsley --"
"The Minister of Magic," Draco pointed out.
"Yeah, him. I reminded him that you had saved our lives, and that you'd been cleared of charges. Your wand was no longer needed and should be returned." Potter rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged again. "He agreed."
Draco laughed. "You are on a first-name basis with the Minister of Magic." Potter scowled. "You remind him that something should be done, and he orders it done. I'd say you have a fair bit of influence, Potter."
He turned pink. "Shut up."
"Merlin, you really are uncomfortable with the whole Saviour thing."
"Always have been."
Draco believed him. All the years he'd known Potter, he'd been convinced it was all an act. "Thank you," he said. For his wand, his life, the crazy number of gifts Potter had recently bestowed upon him. For everything.
"You're welcome."
Draco replayed the last week in his mind, some things still not quite adding up. "How did you manage to get the gifts into my room?" he asked.
Potter grinned. "My house-elf works at Hogwarts during the school year."
"Elf magic?" That would explain why Draco hadn't detected anything.
"Mm hmm," Potter said. "Same magic that concealed who I was and allowed you to send me notes in that envelope."
Draco took comfort in that. "Well that's a relief," he said.
Potter looked confused. "How so?"
"It would just figure if you turned out to be all-powerful."
Potter laughed. Draco decided he liked the sound. "Not all-powerful, just me."
"Good."
Potter started chewing at his lower lip. "Yeah?"
When Draco nodded, Potter allowed himself a smile, visibly relieved. He fidgeted a bit and said, "I still have one more gift for you."
Surely he was joking. "You've already --"
But before Draco could finish his thought, Potter leaned in and kissed him, a soft, almost chaste brushing of their lips.
When Potter drew back and resumed the nibbling of his lip, Draco reached up and brushed a thumb over it. When their eyes met, Draco was surprised - after all Potter had done - that he looked unsure of himself.
Draco smiled and kissed Harry back.
***
The last morning before holidays, Draco awoke to find his Secret Santa gift at the foot of his bed and the card from Harry he'd opened the night before on his table.
"So, what did you get?" Pansy called from his doorway.
He motioned for her to come in. "I've only just woken up," he said. "I haven't had a chance to open it yet."
Pansy handed him her gift and plunked herself on the edge of his bed. He handed her his gift and they tore into them. They'd made a point of getting each other a paper gift of some kind every year since they were kids, and they'd added a bottle of whisky to the tradition a few years back - not as much fun to receive now that they were of age, but still appreciated.
She squealed as she saw the gift certificate for a full spa day. He grinned. He'd run out of paper ideas two years ago, but managed to get around that by purchasing gift certificates. Pansy hadn't complained yet.
This year, Pansy gave him a new leather-bound journal, complete with the latest voice-to-ink recording/transcribing quill, said to be far more reliable and accurate than a Quick Quotes Quill. "I thought you might like to jot down your adventures with the Chosen One. Guaranteed best seller!" she said.
"Very funny," he said, nudging her nearly off the bed. "You know full well I wouldn't do that."
She shrugged. "Can't blame a girl for trying." She picked up his Secret Santa gift and handed it to him. "Go on, then. Open it."
He hesitated, feeling as though he'd already received so much from his own personal Santa. With horror, he realised Harry must already be rubbing off on him. He shook the errant thought away and opened the package - a special holiday edition and one-year subscription to Quidditch Quarterly magazine. Perhaps the gift exchange hadn't been such a bad idea after all.
"So what did Potter get you?"
Draco smirked. No way was he telling her. Harry had granted the last of Draco's wishes that he could. Two days ago Draco had gone to bed, only to find a cake in his room. Then last night, while they ate the cake, Harry had given him a certificate inside his card. Draco had wanted to be invisible, though the reason - to escape - no longer applied. But that didn't mean he couldn't find an alternate use for the gift: Harry's Invisibility Cloak for 24 hours. "Surely you don't expect he'd have bought me more."
"I suppose not." She eyed him suspiciously, but didn't push. She perked up suddenly and said, "I think the Secret Santa was a huge success. Agreed?"
Draco wondered what other ways Harry could find to grant him his every wish. With the right motivation, Draco was sure he could come up with pages more. Pages and pages. Oh yes, he could keep Wonder Boy busy right through to next Christmas.
He smiled at Pansy. "Best idea you've ever had."
~ FIN ~
Author:
sesheta_66Rating: PG
Characters: Draco/Harry, Pansy, Ron
Prompt(s): Short prompt #24 - Secret Santa gift exchange; and long prompt #24 - Draco loses his wish list at school. Guess who finds it?
Warnings: None.
Summary: Faced with a mandatory Secret Santa gift exchange, Draco is unimpressed. After much deliberation, he comes up with a list safe enough to submit. One short shopping trip later, he's done and is left feeling much better about the whole thing. Until he starts receiving gifts that don't seem to be from his Secret Santa.
Word Count: ~6K
Disclaimer: If it sounds familiar to you, I don't own it. The lovely JK Rowling and her rights-holders do. Boo. D: No infringement intended and no monetary gain results from this fiction.
A/N: Thanks to L and A for the quick beta.
by Anonymous
"Attention students," Headmistress McGonagall announced. "This month, with Christmas approaching ..."
Draco groaned. "I swear these monthly social announcements are just a way to call attention to Granger." He glared at the Gryffindor table. "Just look at her, all smug."
Pansy snorted. "You may be right. She does love her role as Chair, but I'll admit this one should be fun." She smirked. "Oh, do close your mouth, Draco. Something might fly in there."
"We're in the Great Hall." He glared at her. She shrugged. "And what do you mean it should be fun?"
"Just listen and you'll find out."
" ... Secret Santa," McGonagall said with all the enthusiasm of Binns.
"What?" Draco whispered. Pansy shushed him and motioned towards McGonagall.
" ... complete a wish list. Everyone is expected to participate, and the magical charm on the chest will ensure that no one submits more than one list. The chest will collect all the wish lists, match them up, and hand the assigned ones out." She looked about as enthusiastic about the whole affair as Draco felt. "The gift exchange will remain anonymous, to both the giver and the receiver."
The hall erupted in a mass of hands waving about and questions being thrown at the Headmistress.
"Any questions you may have can be directed to one of your House's representatives from the Social Committee." And with that, she stepped back to the head table and resumed sipping her tea, looking dubiously at Granger.
Draco turned to ask Pansy more, but as one of the two Slytherin representatives on the Social Committee, she'd been swarmed.
"How does it know not to match me with someone that hates me? Like some Gryffindor?" a young first-year whimpered.
"Yeah. I don't want some shoddy gift from a Gryffindork," a sixth-year Beater agreed.
"Or something hideous from a sappy Hufflepuff," a rough-looking fifth year girl whined.
Pansy raised her hand to stop the barrage of questions. "You'll all shut it while I explain." She looked to Draco for support, but he merely raised a brow. She was on her own with this. Honestly. Who came up with such a horrific idea anyway?
"The whole purpose of the Social Committee is to come up with ideas to support inter-house unity." She raised her arm again. "I said shut it. You can whine all you want later, but you'll hear me out."
Draco watched the crowd cower before her. All except the Beater who satisfied himself with a roll of his eyes. Pansy had come into her own this year, helped rather than hurt by being thrust into her social role. Of course, Potter telling her in front of the entire school that he didn't hold a grudge had helped.
"You fill in the form with your ten wishes for Christmas. Some suggestions about how to come up with a good mix of options are listed on the parchment. You want to give the person who gets you as a gift recipient a good shot at making you happy with the gift you receive. Since you won't know who will be getting you something, be creative." She became animated now, and it was clear to Draco that she was excited.
"Also, when you receive your list, remember that the person won't know who gave them their gift. In other words, think of what you might like, how you might feel receiving what you're giving, and go with that. You might have drawn your worst enemy or your best friend, someone who likes you or someone you like. You never know."
Draco watched the Beater - Smythe, Summerby, he couldn't remember - rub his hands together and grin maliciously. He nudged Pansy and motioned towards the idiot. She grinned and her eyes sparkled.
"And to those that think they'll be smart and give a gag gift or something nasty, the charms on the chest are ready for that. Not only do you give and receive wish lists via the chest, but the gifts are exchanged through there also."
The second years gaped at Pansy. "How is that even possible?" one whispered.
Pansy winked at them. "A fancy collection of very difficult spells," she announced. "Plus the chest is a magical object in its own right. The chest has received the full list of Hogwarts students, and whatever information the Social Committee and staff were able to provide, including friends, enemies, likes, dislikes, etc."
Draco knew now why Pansy had been so busy over the past few weeks. Then he realised -- "You talked about your house mates with the Committee?" he asked, appalled at the betrayal.
"Don't be daft," she said. "We deposited our information into the chest, just as you will your lists. The magic filters through all the information it receives and responds accordingly. It's an ancient magic, not unlike that used in the Goblet of Fire." A few gasps sounded. "But there is no fear of death by gifts," she assured them with a grin.
"Fill in your lists and drop them in the chest. It collects them until every student has submitted one. At that time, it sorts them based on the best matches. You receive your list - handwriting disguised - and two gift tags. Select one gift from the list to give. Once you have the gift ready, place one tag on the gift and the other in the chest. Your gift will be transported to a room where the house-elves will wrap it. Christmas morning, all the gifts will be delivered to the dorms. No one but you and the chest will know who sent which gift to whom."
"But what if I hate my gift?" someone asked.
"When your gift has been collected, it is matched against the list. The chest will reject any gift found not to match the request, or to be given in bad faith."
"Wow!" a first-year girl said, her eyes wide. "That's the best return policy ever!"
Draco couldn't help but laugh. She had a point.
"So," Pansy asked, "any questions?"
A few people asked about details, but Draco simply took the parchment, shoved it into his rucksack, and left for class.
At the end of the day, when he took his books out in the library, he came across the parchment. He'd forgotten about it in the rush of class. Right up to his free class at the end of the day, Mondays were his busiest, and he'd barely had time for lunch. He enjoyed the quiet of the nearly empty library and read it over, wondering what he could possibly want from someone at school.
Welcome to the Hogwarts Secret Santa Gift Exchange!
To maintain anonymity, you should aim for a recommended price between one and two Galleons (5-10 Muggle pounds), with a spending limit, if you must, of four Galleons (20 pounds).
Take into account the following as you decide what to place on your list:
- Your gift-giver may be talented with crafts, yarn, baking, or something else, and may choose to make rather than purchase your gift.
- Christmas is a time of giving.
- Don't ask for anything specific that gives you away (the chest will reject such lists).
- If you don't know what you want, consider:
- Something practical
- Something frivolous
- Something fun
- Something silly
- Something personal
- Something educational
- Something you've wanted for a long time
- Something you feel may be out of reach
- Something priceless (not the same as expensive)
- Something easy to find
- Something hard to find
- The more fun you have, the more fun others will too.
Christmas Wish List for __________________________________
1. _________________________________________________________
2. _________________________________________________________
3. _________________________________________________________
4. _________________________________________________________
5. _________________________________________________________
6. _________________________________________________________
7. _________________________________________________________
8. _________________________________________________________
9. _________________________________________________________
10. _________________________________________________________
Draco stared at the page, wondering what to submit. He took out a scrap of parchment and begin scribbling down ideas. Personal? Ha! He'd never be fool enough to put down something personal. Besides, didn't that go against the anonymity part anyway?
He struggled to come up with ten items that didn't go over the limit. Honestly! Who wanted some trinket worth one Galleon anyway? He thought about Hogsmeade and jotted down some Honeydukes products. Some books weren't pricey. Maybe a scarf.
His mind wandered and he found himself doodling. Before he realised, final class let out and students began filtering in. Madam Pince chastised a group of giggling Hufflepuff girls as a pair of Ravenclaws glared at them for daring to disrupt the sanctity of the room.
He scanned his haphazard notes for some innocuous items.
Draco transferred some to the form and expanded on a couple to complete the list.
- Honeydukes chocolate
- Quidditch book
- Standard potions ingredients - refills
- Knife for chopping potions ingredients
- Quills
- Ink
- Sweets (pumpkin pasties, sugar quills, not BB every flavour beans!)
- Broom maintenance kit
- WWW daydream
- Firewhisky
He hoped the last one wouldn't cause the chest to spit back his list, but if it did, he'd replace it with a scarf or some other WWW product. Not particularly original, but then none of these things were. He only hoped his gift recipient was as considerate.
Satisfied, Draco rolled up the form and spelled it closed with a tap of his wand. He couldn't wait for this to be over.
He searched his Ancient Runes notes for the name of a book he wanted to consult - the reason he'd come to the library in the first place and before he'd become distracted. He found it just in time for a crowd of Gryffindors to saunter in. Weasley glared at him. Draco sneered back.
"There's no room for all of us," Potter said. Just noticing Draco, he nodded. "Malfoy." The lack of animosity in his tone still threw Draco off, even after three months of school.
"Potter." Draco placed the reference book on the table and began gathering his things. "I'm leaving, so you can take this table."
Potter smiled. Another thing Draco couldn't reconcile with the Potter of the past. "Thanks."
Weasley tossed his books onto the table and slid into a chair before Draco had finished packing up. "Don't leave on our account," he said. Neanderthal.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Draco retorted. He slung his rucksack over his shoulder and left.
As Draco approached the door, Potter's voice followed. "Don't be such an arse, Ron."
Draco grinned all the way to the Great Hall where he deposited his form into the chest. After a few moments, when the chest didn't reject it, Draco made his way back to Slytherin.
***
Thursday arrived and McGonagall announced that only five students had yet to enter their names. She gave them until the end of the day to enter, so that people would have time to review their lists before heading into Hogsmeade on Saturday. The lower years would be given the opportunity to go into town on a supervised visit the following weekend.
When Draco received his gift list on Friday, he breathed a sigh of relief. Not much different from his own. He could pick up a selection of treats and still keep the total under the limit set. And it would take up less than a quarter of an hour of his free time. All in all, this was turning out far better than he'd feared. He wondered briefly how many people would be receiving Honeydukes chocolate through this exchange.
When Draco returned to his dorm, he found a gift-wrapped package on his bed. Strange. The gift exchange wasn't for a while yet. A quick series of Revealing Charms identified nothing of concern, so he carefully unwrapped it. Honeydukes chocolate and a collection of high-end sweets. No card attached. He considered the possible source and grinned. He'd thank Pansy at dinner.
"It wasn't me," she said when he approached her.
"It wasn't?"
"That's what I said, dear. Do keep up." She led the way into the Great Hall.
"If you didn't send it, then who did?"
She frowned. "A secret admirer? A social-climbing youngster? How should I know?" she asked.
Draco thought about his house mates. Not one except Pansy would buy him anything, he was sure. But how did the gift get into his dorm room if it wasn't from a Slytherin? He decided not to eat the chocolate for now. He'd try a few more spells to detect any tampering before he'd run the risk. But he'd keep it, just in case it turned out to be safe.
The next morning he woke to find another package, a larger one. This time a note was attached: Hope you enjoyed the chocolate.
Again, no charms or poisons detected. Stranger still was that Draco couldn't work out who had sent it either, despite the numerous spells he cast on the note. Someone had done a good job of hiding their identity, which ruled out the young social climbers Pansy had suggested. No one below fifth year, possibly sixth, would have the magical knowledge and experience to pull that off. Brushing aside the fact that he had few friends in upper years, Draco opened it anyway.
Inside was a set of eight exquisitely-crafted quills, and five ink bottles - three black and one each of red and blue. When he lifted the tray holding the quills and ink, it revealed five packages of quality parchment. Draco had no idea who sent this or why, but it was most certainly over the limit of the Secret Santa. Though he remained wary, he ran his fingers along the feather's edge of the longest quill, itching to write with it.
Underneath the parchment lay a single envelope with a note attached: "If you want to reach me."
This had to be some kind of joke. He'd had a rough go when he'd returned, but with the professors pushing unity, the Social Committee introducing inter-house activities, and the Prophet printing Potter's testimony at Draco's trial, he'd been left to himself on the most part. If one didn't count the Weasleys. Fortunately, Draco didn't.
Was someone taking advantage of this gift exchange to get to Draco? Have him let down his guard? He wondered who had set the spells on the chest, and if perhaps Granger wasn't as accepting as she appeared.
***
Draco confronted Pansy at breakfast. "You've had your laugh, now fess up," he said. He still hoped she was the one sending the parcels.
She frowned and swallowed a mouthful of sausage down with some pumpkin juice. "What are you on about?"
"First the box of sweets, and now the quills."
"No idea what you mean."
He scowled. "If not you, then it must be that chest," he said, confident he'd worked out the puzzle. "It hasn't protected my anonymity or disguised my handwriting. Whoever got my list must know who I am."
"Impossible," Pansy argued. "Besides, there's a limit, and it sounds like that quill set alone went far beyond."
"True. And that would explain the person sending the packages directly to me, instead of through the exchange." He gave her a wry smile.
"I didn't send them." She drummed her fingers on the table, an irritating habit she had whenever she worked out a problem. "I don't think it's because of the gift exchange," she said at length. "Think about it. I'd venture that nearly everyone put sweets on their list, and a fair few would have listed quills, ink and parchment too."
She might be right. "Perhaps."
"These two gifts could have been for anyone. I just think whoever sent you these took advantage of the Hogsmeade trip, and now doesn't want to wait to give you them." She moved a sausage around her plate, her face growing more serious. "Promise me you'll take them to Slughorn to check for any nasty spells or poisons," she said.
He nodded, already planning to do that. No matter his faults, their Head of House could always be counted on for discretion. "I have Potions first thing," Draco said. "I'll slip in a few minutes early."
***
The third package greeted him the next morning. Once more he detected no dark magic and could not identify the sender. Slughorn had no more success with the first two, and had declared them perfectly safe.
"Good idea to have Slughorn check the packages. I'd have done the same," the note said. How did --? "Still working on the easy-to-get ones, I hope you find this next gift practical and educational." Inside was a full potions kit, including three knives of varying metals, numerous phials and measuring devices, and a full store of standard ingredients.
Practical and educational. Easy to get. Obviously references to the gift exchange, but how had the person figured him out? You've always excelled at Potions, Pansy would say. No reason to suspect the chest. Grudgingly, he resisted the temptation to break open the kit and he went to eat.
He said nothing about the latest gift to Pansy. She'd been talking animatedly with others at the table and he didn't get a moment even if he'd wanted to tell her. He spent most of his day preoccupied.
By the time he'd retired for the evening, he'd determined that the person was either in his Potions class or walking past. That meant one of fifteen students, at most.
The fourth package lay at the foot of his bed the next day. "Something frivolous and silly, to help get you through History of Magic." Inside was a Weasley Wizarding Wheeze patented daydream.
The next day arrived with yet another package. "Something fun and practical this time." Draco tore off the wrapping to find a book on Quidditch strategy, a broom maintenance kit, and a snitch. Inside was another note: "Maybe this is your year for the Cup. But that you'll have to earn." Beneath the note was a gift certificate towards the purchase of a new broomstick from Quality Quidditch Supplies.
Draco's brain registered something he'd missed the day before. He hadn't mentioned Binns on the list he'd put in the chest. Nor had he included a new broom or winning the House Cup. But he had written all that on -- Oh, shit!
He dumped the contents of his rucksack onto his bed and flipped through all his notes and books. Shit, shit, shit! No familiar scrap of paper with -- Merlin, what had he written on it again? His stomach flipped. No! No wonder they knew who he was - he'd put Slytherin on the House Cup he'd drawn.
He began to pace, his stomach churning as he recalled all that he'd written. Now someone else had that note and was taunting him with these gifts. He looked at the collection in his trunk. They had all seemed genuine. Even when Draco had checked them for spells and asked Slughorn to do the same, he'd hoped - somewhere in the back of his mind - that the gifts had been sent in good faith. That someone cared enough to do this for him. He looked at the quill set again. Whoever it was had money.
Then Draco remembered the envelope and its message. He retrieved it, then scribbled a quick note. "Who are you?" He resisted the urge to write, "Give me back my note." As obvious as it might seem, Draco could claim the note wasn't his, so long as he didn't admit to writing it. He put the note inside the envelope, and the moment he closed the flap, it disappeared. He stared at his palm, trying to work out who in the school knew that kind of magic.
When the envelope reappeared a few minutes later, Draco hesitated. If the person didn't admit who he or she was, he'd go to Quality Quidditch Supplies. There was no amount indicated on the certificate, which meant either an account with funds on deposit, or a regular customer. He'd have to find some way to get that name.
Draco took out the note.
Are you sure you want to know who I am? Isn't the whole point of a Secret Santa exchange so that you don't know? It's the time of year for giving, and I am able to give. Let's just leave it at that for now.
Have Slughorn look over the rest if you want. Yes, there are more coming. No, I don't expect anything in return. I've noticed you spending a lot of time alone this year, and when I found your note, I thought it might be nice to grant some of your wishes. Maybe then you wouldn't be in such a rush to get out of here. Not everyone at Hogwarts hates you, you know.
The rest of the items may take some work. I suspect I won't be able to get you everything you want, but I'm working on it.
Oh, and I've told no one.
Draco waved his wand over the page. As expected, the spell revealed nothing.
He didn't write back. His instincts screamed for him to get to the bottom of it all, play it safe and ensure he wasn't being tricked. But something inside him, something about the tone of the letter, told him to trust this person. Against his better judgement, he decided to keep this exchange to himself, and he went down to breakfast.
The next morning he received a book: Studying Tips for Mastering Your Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. The note attached said, "Not that you need this, but it couldn't hurt."
The following morning, the box contained a pair of black gloves made of the softest leather; they fit perfectly. A note inside said, "I would have picked out a scarf and sweater, but shopping for clothes isn't exactly my strength. I think you'd agree." A gift certificate for Gladrags Wizardwear was enclosed.
Dawn greeted Draco the following day with a heavy box and a longer-than-usual note:
Sorry I can't help you forget. Well, I suppose I could, but I've seen how a powerful Obliviate can mess someone up, and I wouldn't trust myself to do that.
In the end, we are who we are because of what we've gone through, so what would we be if we just ... forgot? There's lots I'd like to forget, believe me, but I like to think that remembering helps me do things better next time round.
You also said you would like to turn back time. Boy, do I understand that. The thing is, we never know what would happen if we did. I think it's probably best that the store of Time-Turners in the Ministry was destroyed. Too dangerous.
So, even though I can't help you forget or turn back time, I hope this gift will ease some of the pain. Mine has helped lift some of my guilt by showing me things more clearly, and has helped me to recall, and in a way relive, better times.
Inside was an ornately carved stone Pensieve.
The next morning, Draco found no gift. He tried to fight his disappointment, but he'd got used to receiving gifts every day. It was ridiculous, sure, but the parcels had given him something to look forward to, something he'd been hard-pressed to find this school year. He tried to remember what all he'd put on the list. It could be that every wish possible to fill had been filled. Reluctantly he got himself ready and went down for breakfast.
***
An indistinct brown owl deposited an envelope in front of Draco when the post arrived. He broke the seal - Ministry of Magic - and opened the letter.
Mr D Malfoy
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Dear Mr Malfoy,
This letter is to inform you that you may attend the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE) at the Ministry of Magic, Level Two, to collect evidence seized in connection with investigations of Death Eater activity.
The Ministry have concluded their investigations in this matter, and will release it into your custody.
You may collect your wand (hawthorn, ten inches, unicorn hair) by bringing this letter with you to the DMLE between the hours of 9:00 am and 4:00 pm, Monday through Friday.
Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Ministry of Magic
Potter.
Draco had begun to suspect days ago, but this was all the confirmation he needed. It had to be Potter. Draco found the familiar black head of hair at the Gryffindor table, but Potter didn't look up. It was too coincidental that Draco's wand just happened to be returned now. And Draco didn't believe in coincidence. No one else - certainly no one from school - would be able to influence the Ministry to release Draco's wand to him. Most Death Eaters' wands had been destroyed after the war. Of course, most of them were dead or in Azkaban.
But ... Draco recalled what else had been on the note. Fuck. He felt his face grow warm and he looked away. What was Potter playing at anyway? He left the Great Hall and waited for Potter to leave.
When the trio walked past, Draco knew he couldn't face Potter with Weasley around. But he wasn't going to wait. With a wave of his wand, Potter's rucksack broke and its contents spilled onto the corridor floor. Potter waved the other two off and bent over to pick up his things.
When Granger and Weasley rounded the corner, Draco came out of hiding.
"What are you playing at?" Draco hovered over Potter, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the speccy git.
Potter looked up at Draco, back down at his belongings on the ground, then back at Draco, confused. "I would have thought that was obvious," he said as he shoved a book into his rucksack - which then poked out the hole at the bottom. "I'm picking up my stuff."
"Not that!" Draco said. He waved his wand and the hole repaired itself. He then elevated the rest of Potter's belongings and floated them off to the side, into an alcove out of the way of passing students.
Potter frowned, then seemed to feel this was acceptable, and followed his things. He inspected the repair job Draco did, muttered a thanks, and packed the rest of his belongings into the bag. When Potter stood, Draco pushed him back into the wall.
"Malfoy!"
Draco held his wand - his soon to be replaced wand, he reminded himself - under Potter's neck. "I'll ask you again, Potter." Draco was pleased his hand remained steady. "What are you playing at?"
Potter shoved Draco's wand hand away. "Are you mad?" he asked.
Draco looked round to be sure no one could hear. "Why have you been sending me gifts?" he whispered.
Potter's shoulders relaxed. "Finally worked it out, did you?"
"I'm not some charity case, Potter."
"Clearly." The idiot had the audacity to laugh. "Is that what you think this is about?"
Draco relaxed a fraction and put his wand away. They both knew he wouldn't use it anyway. "What other reason would you have?"
"I dunno. 'Tis the season and all that."
"So I'm not some pet project for Potter the Saviour?"
"No." Potter rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, Malfoy, I've noticed that you're alone a lot this year, and I know how that feels. Sometimes it's just nice to know we're not as alone as we think." Thankfully Potter's eyes remained fixed on the floor, or he'd have seen Draco's jaw drop. "Besides," -- Potter looked up with a grin -- "who doesn't like presents?"
"Who indeed," Draco agreed, still wary and not sure what to make of the situation.
Potter reached out his hand. "I thought maybe we could start over. Who knows? Without a war looming over our heads and people urging us to take sides, we might even become friends."
"But ..."
"A wise man once told me that it's our choices that make us who we are," he said, still offering his hand in friendship. "Sometimes we make the wrong ones. And sometimes we get a second chance to do the right thing."
Draco's eyes widened as the meaning of Potter's words sank in. He took the proffered hand as he'd wished Potter would have done those many years ago. As Potter grinned, Draco couldn't help but smile in return.
***
Draco skipped class and went to the Ministry to retrieve his wand. Surprisingly, McGonagall had understood and allowed him to use the Floo.
When he returned, Draco used the envelope to send Potter a note: "I'd like to talk. Could we meet after class?"
Potter replied: Astronomy Tower, 4:00?
The Astronomy Tower? Was that some kind of joke? Had he been planning to confront Draco all along, in the place where Dumbledore had died?
No. Somehow Draco knew that hadn't been the case. He, for whatever reason, believed that Potter wasn't out to get him, that his offer of friendship was genuine.
The Astronomy Tower, Potter? People might talk.
As soon as the envelope vanished, Draco regretted his words. Shit. He and Potter didn't joke.
People always talk. What's the matter, Malfoy? Scared?
Draco laughed. Apparently they could joke. Who knew?
See you at 4:00.
***
"You showed up," Potter said as Draco walked through the door. "Not worried about rumours?"
"Says he who has sent me how many gifts this week?"
Potter grinned. "Ah, but no one else knows."
Draco walked to the edge and looked over, shuddering from more than just the cold breeze. "How do you know I haven't told everyone?"
"I wouldn't care if you did," Potter said. Draco turned round and raised a brow. Potter shrugged, then seemed to register where Draco stood. "Shit. I didn't think--" He joined Draco at the wall. "I find it calming up here." He turned to Draco. "You know Dumbledore was already dying, right? And that he'd arranged with Snape to ... well."
Draco nodded and wrapped his arms around himself. The breeze cut right through him.
Potter stepped closer and waved his wand. Draco felt a rush of warm air. "Did you want to go somewhere else?" Potter asked.
Draco thought about the most private place they could meet - the Room of Hidden Things. He didn't think he was ready to face Vince's ghost just yet. "I'm fine," he said. He reached into his pocket and drew out his wand. "I presume that you are to thank for the return of this."
Potter shrugged. "I didn't realise they hadn't returned it to you," he said, "until I saw your note. Then I noticed you using that other wand."
"So you, what? Told them to give it back, and they just did it?"
"Yeah, right." Potter snorted. "You clearly think I have far more influence than I do." Draco waved his wand in front of Potter's face. "I just reminded Kingsley --"
"The Minister of Magic," Draco pointed out.
"Yeah, him. I reminded him that you had saved our lives, and that you'd been cleared of charges. Your wand was no longer needed and should be returned." Potter rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged again. "He agreed."
Draco laughed. "You are on a first-name basis with the Minister of Magic." Potter scowled. "You remind him that something should be done, and he orders it done. I'd say you have a fair bit of influence, Potter."
He turned pink. "Shut up."
"Merlin, you really are uncomfortable with the whole Saviour thing."
"Always have been."
Draco believed him. All the years he'd known Potter, he'd been convinced it was all an act. "Thank you," he said. For his wand, his life, the crazy number of gifts Potter had recently bestowed upon him. For everything.
"You're welcome."
Draco replayed the last week in his mind, some things still not quite adding up. "How did you manage to get the gifts into my room?" he asked.
Potter grinned. "My house-elf works at Hogwarts during the school year."
"Elf magic?" That would explain why Draco hadn't detected anything.
"Mm hmm," Potter said. "Same magic that concealed who I was and allowed you to send me notes in that envelope."
Draco took comfort in that. "Well that's a relief," he said.
Potter looked confused. "How so?"
"It would just figure if you turned out to be all-powerful."
Potter laughed. Draco decided he liked the sound. "Not all-powerful, just me."
"Good."
Potter started chewing at his lower lip. "Yeah?"
When Draco nodded, Potter allowed himself a smile, visibly relieved. He fidgeted a bit and said, "I still have one more gift for you."
Surely he was joking. "You've already --"
But before Draco could finish his thought, Potter leaned in and kissed him, a soft, almost chaste brushing of their lips.
When Potter drew back and resumed the nibbling of his lip, Draco reached up and brushed a thumb over it. When their eyes met, Draco was surprised - after all Potter had done - that he looked unsure of himself.
Draco smiled and kissed Harry back.
***
The last morning before holidays, Draco awoke to find his Secret Santa gift at the foot of his bed and the card from Harry he'd opened the night before on his table.
"So, what did you get?" Pansy called from his doorway.
He motioned for her to come in. "I've only just woken up," he said. "I haven't had a chance to open it yet."
Pansy handed him her gift and plunked herself on the edge of his bed. He handed her his gift and they tore into them. They'd made a point of getting each other a paper gift of some kind every year since they were kids, and they'd added a bottle of whisky to the tradition a few years back - not as much fun to receive now that they were of age, but still appreciated.
She squealed as she saw the gift certificate for a full spa day. He grinned. He'd run out of paper ideas two years ago, but managed to get around that by purchasing gift certificates. Pansy hadn't complained yet.
This year, Pansy gave him a new leather-bound journal, complete with the latest voice-to-ink recording/transcribing quill, said to be far more reliable and accurate than a Quick Quotes Quill. "I thought you might like to jot down your adventures with the Chosen One. Guaranteed best seller!" she said.
"Very funny," he said, nudging her nearly off the bed. "You know full well I wouldn't do that."
She shrugged. "Can't blame a girl for trying." She picked up his Secret Santa gift and handed it to him. "Go on, then. Open it."
He hesitated, feeling as though he'd already received so much from his own personal Santa. With horror, he realised Harry must already be rubbing off on him. He shook the errant thought away and opened the package - a special holiday edition and one-year subscription to Quidditch Quarterly magazine. Perhaps the gift exchange hadn't been such a bad idea after all.
"So what did Potter get you?"
Draco smirked. No way was he telling her. Harry had granted the last of Draco's wishes that he could. Two days ago Draco had gone to bed, only to find a cake in his room. Then last night, while they ate the cake, Harry had given him a certificate inside his card. Draco had wanted to be invisible, though the reason - to escape - no longer applied. But that didn't mean he couldn't find an alternate use for the gift: Harry's Invisibility Cloak for 24 hours. "Surely you don't expect he'd have bought me more."
"I suppose not." She eyed him suspiciously, but didn't push. She perked up suddenly and said, "I think the Secret Santa was a huge success. Agreed?"
Draco wondered what other ways Harry could find to grant him his every wish. With the right motivation, Draco was sure he could come up with pages more. Pages and pages. Oh yes, he could keep Wonder Boy busy right through to next Christmas.
He smiled at Pansy. "Best idea you've ever had."
~ FIN ~
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(Anonymous) 2010-12-21 04:58 am (UTC)(link)Kim
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Very sweet and heartwarming (most welcome with the cold rain I've been having here...)
I especially liked the doodles and the kiss! ♥
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