Draco was very easily distracted. It didn't take long after he left Malfoy Manor with Harry to forget most of what had happened in the Land of the Aurae. Especially not with Christmas right around the corner.

    "You can almost feel it," Pansy said one morning at the Slytherin table, munching on a slice of buttered toast. "And you can definitely smell it, what with the early snow arriving and all the mince pies the elves have been making."

    "Yeah," Blaise said. "There's some sort of magic about Christmas, I swear. It's like this palpable excitement in the air that begins sometime in November and just hits you in December. Say, Draco, you're going home to the Manor this year, aren't you?"

    Draco, whose mind had been on trying to get the Elixir of Life, was sufficiently distracted. "Yes, I am. Pans, you're coming over, too, aren't you? And then of course there'll be the big pureblood gathering on the 24th. No one could miss that," he said. Blaise nodded in agreement.

    "I hope I get something good this year... Last year I mainly got clothes."

    Pansy looked aghast. "Only got clothes? I only got a couple of robes! And they weren't even in-season robes! Merlin, I would give anything to have relatives with a good fashion sense," she said dreamily. "But I suppose Draco here will just have to suffice," She sighed, standing and ruffling Draco's hair. 

    "Hey!" he protested, patting down his hair. He'd stopped gelling it almost entirely this year; it was far fluffier than ever before. Draco found it was also easier to maintain, though when Pansy had declared him "Almost cute," he'd come very close to gelling it back again.

    "Well, it's been lovely eating with you boys, but I have a girls' day off to plan with Millicent," Pansy said. "Ciao." And she was gone, arm linked through Millicent Bulstrode's, already talking in excited voices about fashion and trends and winter clothes. 

    "Hey, Blaise," Draco said, "Have you done your shopping yet?"

    Blaise rolled his eyes. "Of course not, Draco. You know I'm a last-minute shopper. You yell at me about it every year," he replied. Draco shuddered at the thought of leaving things so last-minute. He could never. "I suppose you finished all your shopping- what, last year?" Blaise asked him.

    "Oh, shush, Blaise. Just because I'm organised. No, I finished about a week ago. Well, I think I finished," he amended. Blaise took one look at Draco and groaned.

    "Don't, Draco, please," he said. 

    Draco blinked. "What?"

    "You do this every bloody year. You get all your shopping done a month before Christmas, and then you deliberate on buying a present for Potter- of all people, Potter!- for the last month. Every year, Draco, every goddamn year, you buy him a present on the twenty-fourth, and you don't send it. Seriously. You keep them in your dresser in your house, in the second drawer up from the bottom, in the secret compartment at the back. Please, Draco, I can't listen to you wondering whether it's okay to get Potter a present for another month; just buy him one, I'm begging you, and give it to him when you give out all your other presents. Please."

    "I do not do- do that!" Draco protested. 

    "Oh hell you don't."

    "I don't!"

    "Okay then. First year- part of some broken Mirror you said always showed Potter's eye. Second year- snake pendant that said "Heir" on it. And it was a Malfoy heirloom. When your father found out it was missing, he flew into a rage. Never suspected you, of course. Third year- a poster of Sirius Black. Fourth year- a portion of the flame from the Cup... and a ferret sculpture. A bloody ferret- anyway. Fifth year- a leftover Potter Stinks badge you found. You know, when Pansy gave you that and suggested you give it to Potter, she'd enchanted it so instead of supporting Diggory, the other side declared your love for Potter."

    "Excuse me?"

    "Sums up your personality pretty well, I think. Oh, you were mad at him sixth year. You didn't get him a present. Seventh year you had a voice recording of the Slytherins singing Weasley is Our King, with you conducting. To cheer him up, you said. Merlin, Draco, what will it be this year? A love declaration?"

    "It will not!" Draco protested. The food had disappeared sometime during Blaise's revealment speech, and Blaise grabbed Draco's stuff before he began heading off to class. Draco chased after him, but he levitated Draco's bag into the air, just out of Draco's reach. He then led Draco out of the Great Hall and down the corridor towards his first period class- Transfiguration with the Gryffindors- arguing with Draco about what he would get Harry for Christmas.

    In all honesty, Draco had actually been considering giving Harry a present; especially now that they weren't proper enemies like before. In any case, Blaise had been lying about most of the presents; Draco had never even considered giving Harry the Malfoy heirloom, and the Flame had been for a Beauxbaton student to take back to France and give to an acquaintance of Draco's as a present. It was just coincidence that her name was Harry- short for Harrietta- too. The only gift Draco had actually considered was, in fact, the Potter Stinks badge; and only because that had been the year Harry dropped out of school to- y'know- save the world. 

    Draco was so distracted by his thoughts, he didn't fully register everything Blaise had said until he reached the Room of Requirement. Then he turned and bolted back down the corridors, leaping down the stairs to McGonagall's classroom; he burst in and grabbed Blaise, hauling him outside by the tail of his robes.

    "Oi!" Blaise protested. "These are expensive!" 

    "Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall disciplined. "What do you think you're do-" 

    Her voice was cut off when Draco shut the door. Whoops. He'd be in trouble for that later. But for now... "Blaise," he said. "This is urgent. What did you say I nearly gave Potter in first year?"

    "Um-" Blaise looked caught off-guard. "A mirror shard you said only showed Potter's eyes when you looked."

    Draco stiffened. He'd seen Potter's eyes in a mirror before. 

    "Blaise, where did I find the mirror shard?"

    "Um... Merlin, Draco, I don't know. Why, anyway?"

    "You remember that potion I was making?"

    Blaise's eyes widened. "Oh. Um, I think you said something about a room down the corridor from the library?"

    Draco frowned, concentrating. He waved Blaise off in the direction of the door in dismissal, then scoured his memory for such a room. There weren't really any rooms near the library; Madam Pince hadn't wanted any noise near the room, and had insisted on one of the most isolated rooms in Hogwarts. Well, Draco supposed he could at least have a look around; but first he should probably apologise to McGonagall- wait! McGonagall! Surely, if anyone were to know the layout of Hogwarts, it would be her.

    Draco opened the door again, walking confidently up to McGonagall and asked, quietly, "Are there any rooms near the library? Any at all?"

    "Why do you need to know this, Mr. Malfoy?"

    "The potion."

    "Ah. I apologise; I do not know. However, I believe someone in this very room has an item that shows the entire layout of Hogwarts..." She looked at Harry.

    Oh. Harry's Map.

    "Thanks, Professor. I won't be long," Draco said. She rolled her eyes as Draco grabbed Harry and pulled him out of the classroom. Longbottom and a couple other Gryffindors very much looked like they wanted to follow; but one stern look from McGonagall kept them in their seats.

    "What do you want, Draco?" Harry asked once Draco had dragged him outside.

    "I need your Map," Draco said.

    Harry blinked. "My... The Marauders' Map?"

    "Yeah, that one. It's for the Elixir."

    "What-"

    "It'd take too long to explain. Come on, Po- Harry. Please."

    Harry took a long breath in, then seemed to deflate. "Alright, then. You say, 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,' to open it; you say 'Mischief Managed' to close it. Be careful, please."

    "I will be," Draco called back, already walking away. 

    Why was it always Harry watching him leave?



    The Map showed that there was, indeed, a room near the library. Two large, plain wooden doors were set seamlessly into the walls, so cohesive with the design of Hogwarts they didn't stand out at all. 

    They opened with a creak; Draco shivered as he entered the room. The walls and floor were a rough grey stone, absorbing his heat and radiating coldness. The room was relatively plain; a single window was set into the back wall, letting a small square of weak winter sunlight into the dim room; other than that, the only noticeable decoration was- a mirror?

    Draco stepped forwards, into the reflection of the mirror. It was fractured, a spiderweb of broken lines criss-crossing the surface; a fragment of the mirror was missing, right about where Draco's eyes would've been when he was younger. Now, that spot was over his chest- over his heart. 

    In the mirror was another Harry. 

    But Draco was there with him this time. 

    He was smiling again, looking at Draco- mirror-Draco- with a stupidly lovesick expression; mirror-Draco smiled back. He looked happier than Draco had been in years. Real-Draco frowned at the sight. 

    Then Draco's gaze caught on his mirror-self's hand. 

    Mirror-Draco was holding hands with Mirror-Harry.

    Why was the mirror showing him this? It was oddly similar to what he'd seen in that mirror-room, in the Golden place. Draco remembered his revelation from then. The mirror didn't show Harry. Well, it did, but it didn't show Harry. It showed who Draco wished he were to Harry. 

    At that point, he'd wanted to be someone Harry could- would- smile at like- he looked at the mirror- like that, like he was everything. 

    Now... What had changed? Draco was now in the mirror, he was holding hands with Harry, and he was smiling.

    Oh.

    Draco wanted more from Harry than just a smile now.

    And- perhaps even more difficult to achieve- Draco wanted to be happy.

    Neither of those were really able to be concentrated and put in a potion.

    Draco looked at the gap in the mirror across his heart.

    Or... Maybe they could be.