reparo ( ✓ )

chapter sixteen

On Christmas morning, Draco Malfoy walked to the large christmas tree placed in the Slytherin Common Room halfheartedly. He was the only Slytherin student who hadn't gone home to their family, and therefore it was only his presents under the magnificently decorated tree.

Seriously, he didn't even feel festive. He had nobody to enjoy the day with as Harry Potter refused to speak to him, and his mother hadn't even written to him. Part of him wished he would've gone home for the holiday, but a larger part of him told him that it was good of he to stay.

Slowly, he unwrapped his first present, soft to the touch: new dress robes. Every present appeared to be from his mother, except two. After he'd made his way through the various works of literature and new clothing that his mother had sent for him, he fell upon a gift from Blaise.

He removed the paper, and found a rather expensive muggle cologne inside. A note was attached, and it read:

'Work your muggle magic on Potter with this stuff. If you ever listened to him in Potions, his own version of amortentia included the musty smell of rain. Show 'im your storm! -Zabini'

Draco rolled his eyes, hating that he'd admitted his feelings towards the Gryffindor boy to his best friend. He knew that he'd never live it down. He sighed, and undid the cap before experimentally spritzing some onto himself. It did smell good, that much was true.

As he began to clear away his rubbish, he took notice of one more small parcel wrapped like an amateur. He picked the parcel up, noticing its weight first, and that it was unmarked. He undid the wrapping, and discovered a lengthy, forest green mug for coffee, tea, or cocoa. It appeared to be enchanted to keep its brew hot, and Draco let out a smile, knowing immediately who it was from.

Suddenly, he felt bad, as he hadn't gotten anything for Harry for Christmas. This holiday appeared to Draco like a rubbish joke a Weasley would be responsible of telling. He gagged at the bile forming in his throat and hurriedly made his way towards the Great Hall.

The table was set, and it appeared that every student who'd stayed for the holidays was present; all except for Harry. He felt his stomach sink as he walked further into the Great Hall, still in his pajamas - which was totally unlike him - and took a seat rather unceremoniously beside a Hufflepuff.

"Happy Christmas, Mr. Malfoy!" Exclaimed Professor Flitwick cheerfully, and Draco only provided him with a halfhearted smile. What was Christmas without a wholesome feeling? Draco felt only emptiness.

"Happy Christmas, sir." He muttered, and proceeded to sip at some tea that had appeared in his mug. He hadn't even realized he'd brought it with him to the Great Hall.

"Have you any idea where Harry Potter might be?" The professor asked, and Draco shook his head solemnly.

"Probably hiding in the Gryffindor Tower." He grumbled, biting into his omelette.

"He's nowhere in the Tower!" A second year Gryffindor exclaimed, turning towards the Slytherin Prince. "We searched for him this morning. Checked his dorm, the Common Room, the toilet... He's nowhere."

The professor rose his eyebrow then, and cleared his throat.

"Are you sure you looked everywhere for him?" He asked.

"Indeed, sir. He's nowhere. It's like he's left the school." Provided the fourth year, and Flitwick looked as though he'd faint.

"We can't very well have students leaving unnoticed! I must alert Professor McGonagall at once!" With that, he rushed from the Great Hall and down the corridor. The remaining students stared after him, and then at Draco.

"What did you do to him that he's run off?" The fourth year asked, an angry glare taking over his otherwise soft, elvish features.

"I did nothing!" Draco exclaimed, offended by the accusation.

"Sure. If that's what you call coming into our Common Room against school rules and sitting in Harry's chair, then sure, you did nothing." The fourth year snapped, and Draco wondered how much trouble he could possibly get in for hexing the little prat. He tried to remember himself in fourth year, and whether or not he was an annoying little runt.

"He let me in. It was consensual." Draco snapped, and then couldn't help but let his lips turn upwards slightly upon how wrong that sounded.

"You're a snake, Malfoy, and if you by any means hurt him more than he's already been hurt, you'll have a whole house, perhaps a whole school on you faster than you can say 'Salazar Slytherin.'" Yes, Draco most certainly wanted to hex the runt, but did no such thing. Instead, he stood swiftly as the Great Hall's doors opened once more and Professor Flitwick waddled in alongside the headmistress.

"You don't know the first thing about him." Draco snapped towards the kid before McGonagall reached the table.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, just the boy I wanted to see." The Headmistress gave the Slytherin a dry smile, and then folded her hands in front of her.

"Professor." He spoke, giving her a slight bow respectfully.

"It has been brought to my attention that a student has gone missing from our campus, am I correct? And you were the last one to see Mr. Potter?" Draco nodded, and the headmistress' lips appeared thinner than he thought possible.

"Have you any idea the whereabouts of Mr. Potter?" She asked, and he shook his head.

"Well, in that case, I've got a mission for you. As you were the last one to see him before his disappearance, you are responsible for finding him. So, I suggest you get changed into something warmer, and set about finding him." And with that, she turned and walked away. He felt his jaw open and close, and then stalked off towards the Slytherin location - snatching his mug along the way.

»»»

"Stupid Potter's always up to something." Draco muttered against the cold. Apparition was prohibited on school grounds, even by an of-age wizard, and Draco stalked towards the edge of the grounds quickly before he could be whisked into the wind, though he held no idea where he might be going.

He thought of the Weasleys, but then realized he hadn't the slightest clue where they resided after the attack on their home less than a year ago. He was surely and truly in a dilemma.

»»»

"Lemme see him." By the time Harry made it to the Burrow 2.0, he was completely and utterly drunk off his mind.

"Harry, who?" Molly was the first to notice the dark-haired wizard's intrusion, and stood quickly to warm the boy.

"My godson. Let me see my godson." Harry explained, and stumbled slightly as he tried to walk forward. Across the room, he could see Ginny bouncing the baby up and down on her knee whilst the infant's hair changed from green to red to white to silver.

"Harry, you're terribly drunk." George noted, standing up to halt the drunken wizard's advance.

"I'm fine. Give me the baby, Ginny." Harry ordered, and Ginny stared at him with a mix of disgust and horror written on her face.

"Merlin, Harry. Like hell I'd give this precious thing to you in such a state." She claimed, holding the baby closer to her body.

"Stop acting like you're his mum, Ginny. You're not and you won't be." Harry snapped, and the redhead's face fell.

"You're just drunk." She decided, trying not to let it show how badly his words stung her. "Get him away from Teddy."

Ron stood next when Harry attempted to move forward once more, and shoved him backwards.

"No, Harry. Don't you realize how horrible you're being?" He asked, bewildered truly.

"Don't you realize I have custody of that boy?" Harry responded, and Ron shook his head solemnly before allowing George to help him take the drunken boy up the stairs towards a spare bedroom.

"Sober Harry has custody of that baby. Sober up, and then you can see him." And with that, Ron slammed the door behind him and performed a locking charm on it to prevent Harry from wandering. What a terrible way to spend a holiday.