“I know what you’re saying,” Medusa commented in a bored tone as the snakes hissed back their own chorus of obscenities at Harry. “And it just goes to show that you don’t belong here. Only one of insignificant breeding would use such fowl language.”
Harry groaned. “So you’re going to make Draco annoyed at both me and you when I bang on your frame loud enough to wake him in the bedroom?” He grasped at the last idea that he had when dealing with this obnoxious portrait.
“You won’t have to bang loudly. He’s asleep on the couch waiting for you to do so.”
Harry could, and would later, swear up and down that Medusa’s voice took on a completely different tone when talking about Draco.
“So why don’t you just let me in so that I won’t have to wake him?” Harry asked.
The portrait considered this for a moment or two before nodding her assent. “But you’d better watch out when Draco goes home for Christmas and it’s just you here. You’ll never get in for the entire two weeks!” She spat at him.
Harry brushed by her and into the room to find that the portrait had not lied about its sleeping inhabitant. The fire had burned itself to low embers, casting almost a shadowy glow on the room and upon the figure sleeping on the couch. Draco was wrapped up in the comforter that he obviously had taken from his bed, its black coloring blending with the black silk of Draco’s normal sleepwear.
Draco’s eyes were closed, of course, as he was sleeping, but his face seemed to retain that same air of Malfoyishness that it always held, as if he were some untouchable deity or lord whose level of perfection mere mortals could never hope to ascend to. The glow from the fire seemed to sink into his hair and bring out an ethereal glow from the platinum strands. Harry stood there just watching Draco sleep, but the serenity of the scene was broken when Draco’s eyes fluttered open as Medusa closed her portrait rather loudly.
“She let you in. Surprising.”
“I’d be careful if I were you, I think Medusa likes you too much.” Harry tried to act normal as he crossed the room to the doorway to the bedroom.
“I’m not too worried.” Draco padded into the room after him and gracefully flopped on his bed (much to Harry’s amazement, though he hid it, that it was actually possible to flop gracefully). Draco waited for a few minutes until he was certain that Harry was assuming that he wouldn’t say anything about the conversation he’d overheard earlier. Silly Gryffindor, Draco was a Malfoy; of course he would say something. “I actually think it’s ironic.”
“What, that a snake-haired girl likes a Slytherin?”
“No, I wasn’t thinking of Medusa, although she was ever so pleased to help make you so embarrassed earlier.”
Draco felt Harry stiffen.
“Then what’s ironic?” Harry’s voice was almost guarded.
In the darkened room Draco smirked, “I find it ironic that you’re so worried about me rejecting you, when it was you who rejected me first…twice.”
Nothing more was said that night. After all, what could one say to that?
As Draco well expected, by saying that particular comment the night before, Harry made sure to be out of their rooms by the time Draco woke up the next day and avoided him as much as was possible, seeing as there were some classes that Gryffindor and Slytherin had together and he couldn’t well skip those. Draco was somewhat amused by this behaviour actually, as he was waiting for the revelation that would come at sometime when Harry realized how he had worded that sentence.
He was not prepared for Harry to realize a very different thing, which he brought up during Draco’s Transfiguration essay that afternoon. Harry walked into the rooms after a few minutes of bickering with Medusa (Merlin, how fond Draco was getting of the portrait, maybe Dumbledore would let him buy it for his study door back home…).
“What are we going to do about holiday break?” Harry said suddenly, surprising Draco slightly. Where had he come up with that topic?
“I don’t see how this holiday break is going to be any different from any other,” Draco responded, returning to his Transfiguration essay. His father and he would spend Christmas Eve doing whatever they felt like doing, then they would open presents together Christmas Day and his godfather would likely join them for dinner on Christmas Day as well-
“No, I meant about the sleeping thing.”
“What are you rambling about?”
“Unless you don’t plan to sleep at all over holiday break, Draco, we’re going to have to figure something out.”
Realizing that he would have to take Harry home for Christmas, Draco almost missed the fact that Harry had called him by his first name to his face. Draco had heard Harry refer to him by his first name before, but never had Harry actually addressed him by “Draco” instead of “Malfoy”.
“Well then, Harry, you will just have to accompany me, won’t you?” The tone left no room for argument but Harry argued anyway, blushing slightly when he realized that Draco had picked up on his slip of the tongue.
“Aren’t you even going to ask me politely, or are you just going to be a bastard about it? No, wait, why am I even asking?”
“I don’t know. Why are you?”
“Because I don’t have to go to your home over holiday break, I could very easily stay right here in Hogwarts the way I have for the past five years. And even if you did go home, you’d end up back in Hogwarts by morning, and you know it.”
Draco stopped even trying to work on his essay. Harry did have a point, a very good one actually.
“Very well, then.” Draco looked up at Harry for the first time since the boy had come in the room. “Harry, will you come home with me for holiday break?”
Harry blinked…three times. He hadn’t actually expected Draco to ask him at all.
Draco meanwhile found the astounded look on Harry’s face very amusing, although he fought down the urge to smirk, laugh, or look amused as he waited for Harry’s answer.
“Okay,” Harry said and Draco went back to his essay. “If you promise to accompany me to D.A. meetings.”
Draco stopped working again. Not that stupid D.A. again. But…weigh the options, Christmas at Malfoy Manner or Christmas at Hogwarts…oh, bloody hell!
“Very well. But I can assure you that I will not be participating in any way and that you will come to regret the idea.”
Harry grinned triumphantly and fought back the urge to go and laugh at Medusa and tell her that she wouldn’t have the pleasure of kicking him out of their rooms for two weeks because when Draco left, he would be leaving too. Well, maybe he could shove that in her face later…
Draco was seriously starting to regret agreeing to go the DA meetings when he realized that, of course, everyone in this little club would not likely be too happy with a Slytherin present. They were not, if the glares being sent his way were worth anything. Of course, it wasn’t really his problem. He’d made it very clear to Harry that he was just going to sit in a corner and work on his Divination homework and that was that. If Harry wanted an explanation as to why he was there, then Harry would just have to give one himself; and if Harry got hurt then he would have to walk over to Draco’s corner because there was no way that Draco himself was moving until the whole ordeal was over.
And, true to his word, Draco walked over to an unoccupied corner-that he was quite positive the Room of Requirement was supplying for him-and proceeded to sit down and take out his homework without a look at the group of students that were very shocked at his actions.
“Why is Malfoy here?” Draco heard one of them ask and couldn’t help smirking as Harry had to make up an explanation that didn’t really tell what truly was going on between the two of them. Draco did not bother to hide his amused expression as they bought it; something about how all the spells they used upset some Veriae thing unless he knew what was going on. Oh, he’d have fun with that one later…
Thus, Draco was pretty much ignored for the first part of the D.A. meeting, when Hermione was explaining the newest spell that they were working on and Draco was effectively tuning her out. He had not agreed to listen to her prattle on like a textbook recording; he had just agreed to be in the room.
Things began to happen when the students started to work with the new spell. As Draco could have predicted, it wasn’t five minutes before a spell came at him, whether because the person missed or because she purposely aimed at him, he didn’t know and didn’t care.
Harry watched as the beam of purple light headed straight for Draco, as did almost everyone in the room. The very air in the room seemed to shift slightly and the spell swerved, deflecting to the ceiling.
“Someone should work on the Weaslette’s aim.” Draco spoke, bored, to the room. He hadn’t moved from his work or looked up the entire time.
Draco decided he liked the Room of Requirement. Its very nature would supply him with enough magical currents to keep a shield even if the currents in the building itself were feeling testy. That was information to file away for use later. Very useful.
Of course, it was only a matter of time before a spell got too close to Harry and the Veriae bond went haywire. Draco did look up from his work then as he fought to keep his wings inside so that his shirt would not be ruined, and waited for Harry to find some excuse to go sit next to him. He didn’t have to wait long.
Harry was surprised that Draco did not smirk at him as he made his way over to Draco’s secluded corner. He sat down next to Draco in such a way that his body would hide from the rest of the room what Draco’s left hand was doing as his right continued writing some notes for Divination.
Harry was even more surprised that Draco didn’t say something along the lines of “I told you so” and said so after a few moments.
“Oh, those words don’t even begin to express my feelings of satisfaction at this moment in time,” Draco replied, almost amicably.
“But you’re going to say them anyway, aren’t you?” Harry asked, knowing that they would come out sometime; this was Draco Malfoy he was talking about here.
