After half an hour of failed attempts to catch Slughorn (he seemed unusually good at hiding himself in the snowy landscape), McGonagall declared the rest of the day's lessons off; after all, it was the first snow of the year. She reminded everyone to be inside for curfew, then retreated to the castle for "a nice cup of tea and maybe a biscuit". Draco thought that that sounded wonderful, and was about to follow her inside when Jisky appeared next to him. "The Stone has melted," she said.

    Draco froze, all thoughts of tea and biscuits vanished from his mind. He jumped up, pulling Harry up with him, and sprinted off towards the castle. "We can make the Elixir," Draco muttered to him as he began to protest. Immediately, Harry shut up and suddenly it was Harry pulling Draco towards the castle.

    Behind them, Blaise, Pansy, Ron and Hermione all smiled at the sight of their joined hands.

    "Took them long enough," Ron muttered.

    "Couldn't agree more," Pansy said. "Well, now, Blaise; time for you to pay up. C'mon, c'mon, don't be shy." At Hermione and Ron's twin looks of confusion, she smirked and said, "Blaise and I had a little bet. He thought they'd stay oblivious to each other until Christmas; I thought they would get together before that. And, as you can see," she said, gesturing towards the boys disappearing into the castle together, "I was right. Oh, Blaise, don't try to cheat me, you cheapskate. That's leprechaun gold. That's the seventh time you've tried that on me. Honestly, darling, it just doesn't work. Now, where's my money?"



    Inside the castle, Harry and Draco were dashing through the halls towards the Room of Requirement. They paced back and forth together in front of the entrance, impatient with excitement. As soon as the door appeared, Draco flung it open and ran over to the cauldron containing the melted Stone. He knew the steps to extract the Elixir, had spent Merlin knew how long going over the motions meticulously, but just in case... "Harry, what's the incantation?"

    "Extractum Aeterna Aurea Vitae," Harry replied immediately. When Draco gave him a surprised look at his quick response, he half-blushed and muttered, "I put it in my memory home." 

    "Ohh. Okay. Any other tips you've got in there?"

    "Er- yeah, actually. Dumbledore said you say it seven times- no more, no less- and add your heart's deepest desire."

    Draco nodded and took a deep breath. He only had one shot at this. Where'd he put the Mirror shard?

    He spotted it on the table behind him and to his left. He grabbed it- he refused to notice the glint of a golden ring that now sat on the pair of intertwined hands he could see inside- and lowered it slowly into the potion. The liquid went from a vibrant orange to a deep scarlet, almost the colour of blood.

    "Extractum Aeterna Aurea Vitae, Extractum Aeterna Aurea Vitae, Extractum Aeterna Aurea Vitae, Extractum Aeterna Aurea Vitae, Extractum Aeterna Aurea Vitae, Extractum Aeterna Aurea Vitae, Extractum Aeterna Aurea Vitae," he said. The liquid seemed to evaporate as he spoke, turning from scarlet liquid to pink-tinged smoke of some sort. It had no identifiable smell, yet Draco was reminded of everything in life that he loved; his mother, his broom, the gardens at Malfoy Manor, hot chocolate and the smell of freshly cut grass, and Pansy's perfume and the rain and the snow and an overwhelmingly strong scent of Harry. And then... What was that? 

    Ozone and fire and smoke and... Did gunpowder have a smell?

    Harry seemed to realize it before Draco did. He grabbed Draco from behind and pulled him down onto the floor as the cauldron rattled and hissed... And exploded.

    Was that supposed to happen?

    Draco lay there in Harry's arms, terrified that he'd messed up; it was Harry who sat up tentatively first, peeking at the table. He scrambled upright and pulled something off the table. "Draco," he cried, "Draco, look!"

    Draco turned his head, very slowly, to look at Harry. 

    He was holding a small part of the cauldron, and inside it was a shimmering pool of golden liquid. The Elixir of Life.

    Harry grinned at Draco, and an identical smile spread across Draco's face.

    He'd done it.

    He'd succeeded.



    It was a good ten minutes of incomprehensible joy and shouting and general jubilation before the boys were able to move onto the next step.

    Draco sectioned off a portion of the Elixir, just in case, before adding the necessary amount to his pre-prepared base potion for the Dreamless Sleep potion. Now, with unicorn blood, he'd usually only have to wait for the potion to stop bubbling until he could move on to the next step. He wasn't sure if he could proceed so quickly using the Elixir, and he did not want to mess this up, so he decided that he'd wait until he physically couldn't any more.

    In that case, it'd probably be a while.

    He asked Jiskey to notify him exactly two days after the potion would normally be done (you could never be too safe).

    Meanwhile, Draco and Harry left the room, talking excitedly about what they ("Me, mostly," Draco reminded Harry) had done; Draco was positively bursting with excitement. He was the best potioneer alive! Merlin, Mother would be so proud! Snape, too- Draco froze midstep. Harry stopped with him, looking confused and worried and ever-so-slightly-scared, but Draco's mind was entirely occupied by another matter entirely.

    Oh, Merlin.

    Snape.

    He'd told Severus he'd bring down a painting so Snape could watch and make sure Draco was okay.

     And he never had.

    Oh, Severus would be fuming.

    He turned away from Harry and sprinted down the corridor, not registering Harry's shouts for him to "Wait, Draco!" in his haste to find out just how screwed he was. 

    He burst into McGonagall's room, barely sparing her an apology for his interruption before he whipped around to face Snape.

    Uh oh. He knew the look on Snape's face.

    Oh, he was in for it.



    He returned to the snow outside with a pounding headache (honestly, portraits should have volume limits) and a damper on his earlier cheer. He spotted his group all sat watching the teachers (who were, apparently, now working together to build a snowman taller than Draco's (they were failing, obviously, because Draco was far superior in the art of building snowmen)) and sank down next to Harry with a sigh. "Draco!" Harry exclaimed. "What happened? You just turned around and shot off- is something wrong? Is the potion okay? Are you okay?"

    "Um- yeah, no, the potion's fine, nothing happened, just-" his head ached just thinking of the brutal verbal lashing he'd received- "I, um, forgot to take Snape down to watch as we made the potion, and he wasn't happy about it. I decided I should go get the telling-off lecture now before he gets even worse, which is what took me so long."

    "Wha- why did he want to watch?"

    Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, firstly, he is a potioneer, and wanted to-" he put on his best Snape imitation, slow drawl and all- "Watch us fail in such a high-risk project; secondly, when that project failed, he wanted to be there to make sure I wasn't hurt, and also to laugh at us-"

    "Obviously," Harry murmured in his own impression of Snape.

    "-and, in general, he's just angry that he wasn't involved. Oh, when I told him we'd succeeded, you should've seen his face! Priceless!"

    "Wait, Draco," Hermione said, "You succeeded?"

    "Oh, yeah! Well, the draught isn't finished yet, I'm going to leave it to brew for an extra-long time, just in case, but we got the-" he lowered his voice- "Elixir."

    "You did? Oh, brilliant! Well done! How long d'you think until you'll be finished?"

    "Don't know; at least another two day-"

    "Oi, Draco! Heads up!"

    Draco turned around to Blaise just in time to receive a snowball straight to his face. He sat there with the the most dangerous I-will-make-you-regret-ever-being-born expression as the snowball fell to the ground. Blaise gulped. "Ah, just a- a little fun between friends, right Draco? Just a joke between us-"

    Draco stood drew his wand with a flourish. Pansy, who had been stood behind Blaise, threw one last snowball at the back of his head before sprinting to hide behind the nearest tree; what good sense she had, Draco mused. Evidently, it was sense that Blaise had none of... He was still stood there, arms out placatingly, looking mortally terrified (and rightfully so) as Draco twirled his wand, and behind him rose a fleet of perfectly round, compact snowballs. 

    With another swish of his wand, Draco sent the army hurtling at Blaise, who yelped and tried to run from them- honestly, what an idiot- before being knocked to the floor and pulverized by the snow. Draco sat back down with a self-satisfied smirk, sheathing his wand.

    "Bloody hell," Ronald said. "Remind me not to get on his bad side."

    Harry nodded his agreement, staring at Draco with wide eyes.

    But, apparently, this was not enough. Because a moment later, another snowball flew into Draco's back; this one launched with so much force, he was knocked off of his makeshift seat and onto the ground.

    He stood and turned to face the direction it had come from- the main snowball fight, which was still going strong. The fight had stopped, however, when Draco was hit, and the participants had all turned to watch Draco; as he glared at the group, they all seemed to cower a little. Ooh, it'd been a while since Draco had terrified the younger students. He was going to have some fun. 

    He smirked as he pulled his snowballs from around Blaise and sent them into the snowball battle, hitting multiple students and damaging defences, effectively starting the fight once more... Except now, there was a third side of the fight; the small group of eighth years.

    Not even a minute had passed before every one of them had been hit by a snowball and brought into the fray. Hermione built up a formidable defense wall while Pansy and Blaise supplied the snoballs; Ronald was (for some absurd reason) shaping each snowball with his hands, making far less progress than the others, while Harry and Draco took turns peeking over the wall and flinging snowballs into the fight. 

    When the eighth years began to slowly (but surely) dominate the field with their stronger, more advanced magic (and arguably better coordination, despite them being... Well, them), the other two sides of the fight came to a truce; seventh years worked together to merge their defences and suddenly it was six eighth years against the rest of Hogwarts. 

    Draco hadn't laughed and smiled so much in his life.

    

    Curfew arrived all too soon; the teachers, snow-covered and grinning, herded the students inside. They were told sternly that there would not be another snow-day like this tomorrow, and to get some sleep because classes started early as always. But even the thought of homework and classes again barely put a damper on the palpable happiness of the students.

    The eighth-years all congregated in the Great Hall. Their curfew was far later than everyone else's, so they called for some hot drinks from the elves. As they warmed their frozen hands and feet, they discussed in their small groups what they would be doing for Christmas. A large portion of them were staying at Hogwarts, far more than usual; especially the Slytherins, and others who might want to avoid their homes. Draco, Pansy, and Blaise were planning to stay for Christmas for the first time ever. Harry was staying too, obviously, and Hermione and Ron had decided to stay with him. Draco heard Longbottom was staying, and he said that Luna was staying too. Good. Draco had gotten her a present, too, and wanted to see her reaction when she opened it. When he said as much to the group. Longbottom immediately turned on him and said, "You better not give her anything bad, Malfoy, or I'll- I'll hex you!"

    Draco rolled his eyes. "As if I even could. Mother would have me hanged. No, you idiot, she's my cousin, I would never. I've gotten her something she's been on about for ages, I just wanted to see how she reacts."

    "Oh. Wait, you're cousins? Scratch that- you're related?"

    "Oh my Merlin. Longbottom. You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're kidding. Have you even seen our hair? Yes, we're related!"

    The evening passed in a flurry of quiet conversations and light hearted jokes; at one point, Ronald produced some of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes newest product, the Hysteria-Inducing Holly (especially for the festive season!) which sent most of the room into fits of laughter. Then came some rather peculiar sweets that turned the consumer into an animal; an old classic from when Honeydukes and Zonko's had collaborated to make the "best product for students" a few years back. They were in high demand amongst the eighth years, and the Gryffindors ended up summoning stashes of sweets they had hidden in their rooms in order to satisfy everyone.

   McGonagall only realised the eighth years hadn't ever reached their beds when, come the next morning, she found them all asleep in the Hall (and others passed out in the halls of Hogwarts). She told them all off sternly and watched them doze off in her class with an exasperated (but undeniably fond) smile.



    On Christmas morning, Draco shot up out of bed. Today was the only day he woke up early without prompting; finding that he was the only one awake at- he cast a quick Tempus- 6:30 am, he quickly awoke his Blaise and Pansy (he found that a Sonorous and a shout of "It's Christmas!!!" did the trick) before dragging them (still half-asleep and in pyjamas) down to the Great Hall, where the eighth-years had requested a large, communal Christmas tree. 

    Draco's eyes lit up at the sight of the heaps of presents awaiting him.

    He turned into quite a child at Christmas; full of energy for days before, jumping and leaping around the place, grinning from ear to ear. This Christmas was no exception. He ran down to the foot of the tree and just sat there, amongst the presents, revelling in the feel of Christmas that flowed through the air. Ron and Hermione had been eating at one of the tables; Blaise and Pansy approached them with murmured greetings and tired smiles. Hermione gave Pansy a sympathetic look when Ron bounded over to Draco; apparently he was a fellow Christmas-lover. 

    He knelt next to Draco amongst the presents with a grin, then gasped as he was hit with an idea. "Draco, hear me out, please, but you have to do this. Okay..."

    When Ronald had finished explaining, Draco gave him an appraising look. "Not bad, Ronald, not bad. Okay. I'll get the others, you get the paper. Go!"



    Pansy loved the plan; as did Hermione. Blaise had added suggestions to the plan and improved it bit by bit until it was deemed flawless. 

    They put into motion the preparation for it, having Blaise stand watch for Harry; soon, the teachers and other students began walking into the Hall; Hagrid walked in, and gave them encouragement, going so far as to provide them with the biggest spool of ribbon Draco had ever seen. Of course, he didn't see it for long.

    "He's coming!" Blaise hissed to the group just as Draco was moved to his place. The others all fell into position, too, distracting Harry as Pansy added the finishing touch; a label that said, "For Harry."

   

. . .



    When the others managed to distract Harry from his food (Pansy just shouted, "Presents!"), they insisted Harry open the largest one first. It was a rather peculiar shape, and roughly the same size as Harry. He undid the ribbon atop it, then tore away the paper at the top.

    Draco, stood under the tree, wrapped up like a present, grinned at him. "Merry Christmas, Harry," he said.

    "M-Merry Christmas, Draco," Harry stuttered back, too surprised to comprehend what had happened.

    Then Pansy and the rest pounced on their own presents; Draco wrestled his way out of his wrappings, winked at Harry, then turned to his own presents. 

    Harry had to take a minute to try and calm the blush he could feel had risen on his cheeks before he could join them.



. . .



    The eighth years opened their presents together in a circle, handing their presents to the designated recipients, building up their own pile as they went.

    Neville opened his mimbulus mimbletonia, looking positively delighted with it; Blaise got his violin (and played it, much to the dismay of all present); Luna thanked the group for her flute, and then thanked Draco with the biggest smile when he gave her the newest copy of "A Guide to Spotting Relatives of the Nargles", while Harry opened his Quidditch set from Ron. Both the Golden Trio and the Silver Trio received knitted jumpers  from Mrs. Weasley (Draco nearly cried) because, as Ron said, "C'mon guys, did you really think Mum was gonna let you out of sweaters now you're a part of our group? No way!"

    Hermione opened her present and got her quill; she immediately set about writing something or other in the Never-Ending Notebook she'd received from Harry. 

    Ron got the pensieve with the memory from Draco; most of the eighth-years present dived into the memory to watch Draco try over and over again to get the Slytherins to sing "Weasley is Our King" correctly, laughing when he ridiculed them (which was often) and full-on wheezing when, at one point, Draco gave up and stormed out of the room, returning a moment later to tell Millicent Bulstrode to "conjure up an airhorn, since it would be more likely to be in key than she was", and applauding the Slytherins when, at last, they managed to perform the song perfectly all the way through and Draco sunk on to one of the common-room sofas with a relieved sigh.

    The eighth-years emerged from the memory still giggling; Ron said "Thanks, mate, that's bloody brilliant," and he and Draco became "official" friends.

    The day had flown by; before he knew it, the sun was nearing the horizon, and only one present remained in front of Draco. It was from Harry.

    He opened his present carefully, being careful not to rip anything, and found a- a skirt? No, two! One was skintight, with a slit up the right-hand side, in a gorgeous lush green; the second was softer, looser, a pretty pastel pink with a bow around the waistband and lace trimmings at the bottom and many poofy layers of tulle. He admired them both, glanced up to see Harry's eyes on him, cautious, hopeful; Draco grinned and ran out of the hall.

    When he was sure he was out of sight, he changed into the pink skirt. It was lovely; so free and loose and swirly. He twirled again and again, watching how it flew out around him; when Pansy came looking for him, she applauded him, then walked him back into the Hall. All eyes were on him as he settled back down again, giving Harry an almost-shy grin and mouthing "Thank you," at him.

    Harry himself had one present left in front of him; Draco's first present. Draco was waiting to give him the second present. Harry opened the present, pulling out the specially-made snowglobe; inside was a miniature sculpture of three buildings.

    The Burrow stood tall and crooked, while Hogwarts stood large and proud. Harry's house from Goric Hollow was nestled between them, and when Harry shook the globe, a light snow dusted the roof.

    Harry met Draco's eyes with a soft smile and mouthed, "Thank you," at him. Draco grinned. He wasn't done yet... But now wasn't the time. He decided to give Harry his present at midnight; two hours from now. Most of the people gathered would still be awake, undoubtedly; Draco just hoped that Harry would be.



     As he had expected, when the clock struck midnight, most of the group were still wide awake, supping hot chocolate and eating the last bits of pudding. Draco hesitantly made his way over to Harry and asked him to join him; Harry stood quickly and followed Draco out of the Hall. Draco lead him to the abandoned classroom a few twisted corridors down from the Great Hall, where Harry's second present had been residing for the last half hour or so.

    "I have another present for you," Draco told him as he opened the door. Harry shot him a surprised glance and made his way into the classroom to open it. It sat on the nearest desk, wrapped carefully with air holes poked in the top. 

    Harry started peeling off the wrapping paper, then jumped back into Draco's chest, nearly knocking him over. 

    "Draco!" he hissed. "What have you got in there? It talks!"

    Oh, Draco had hoped this would happen. He grinned. "Open it, Harry," he said.

    Harry proceeded more cautiously than before; when he realised what it was, he let out a soft oh. 

    It was a snake.

    An emerald tree boa, to be precise.

    "She's not venomous," Draco murmured to Harry. Harry reached out and unlatched the cage, slowly lowering his arm inside, hissing softly. The snake flickered its tongue at him and made its way up his arm to coil around his forearm; she was a baby at the moment, but she could grow to be two meters long.

    Harry turned to Draco smiling that special smile of his. "Thank you, Draco," he said. "Thank you so, so much."

    The world allowed them a moment of silent peace, but when Harry opened his mouth to say something, a crack of apparition announced Jisky's arrival. "Master Draco," she said, "Your potion has finished."

    Whatever Harry had been going to say was gone; he secured his snake around his arm and followed Draco out of the room, both of them running through the halls to reach the Room of Requirement. 

    Draco threw open the door, rushed over to his potion; he completed the steps for the rest of the Sleeping Draught ever-so-slowly, making sure he was following all the instructions to the t. Harry watched him work with bated breath, hoping and hoping and hoping...

    When the potion was finally done (the same colour as it was usually, thank Merlin) Draco took the smallest sample- only a drop- and put it on a small Mandrake test sample. It fell asleep quickly, which was a good sign, but Draco wouldn't be able to tell if the potion had worked entirely until the next morning. Harry summoned the snake's cage from the classroom and led Draco into his childhood home here in the Room; he and Draco both took separate bedrooms to wait out the night.



    It appeared that while the day had passed faster than imaginable, the night was taking twice as long as usual. Draco tossed and turned for a good hour or two before finally dropping off into a fitful sleep.

    He rose with the sun, praying that the mandrake had awoken, too; alas, when Draco returned to the potions area of the Room, he found the Mandrake still sleeping peacefully.

    Draco was about to leave for the Great Hall in hopes that breakfast would pass the time, but realised that breakfast wouldn't have started this early in the morning. He looked around for something to do, but apparently the Room didn't provide things this early in the morning. Stupid Room. 

    Draco's eyes caught on a stack of story books piled on a table next to Viv; the same books Harry had read to her before. Draco looked around, just to make sure no one was watching him, then pulled up a chair next to Viv and began reading to her in a hushed voice. 

    He kept reading until he was interrupted by Harry. "Morning, Draco," he murmured.

    "Morning, Harry. Mandrake's not up yet."

    "Oh. What are you doing?"

    That's what made Draco look up, almost guilty at having been caught reading children's books to a plant. "Um... Nothing," he said, hiding the book behind his back. Harry grinned at him in a sort of "You're hopeless," kind of way. Before he could say anything, Draco saw movement at the edge of his peripheral. His eyes shot to it; the mandrake, seeming to stretch in the sun. It was awake.

    Draco stumbled over to it, nearly falling over his legs; they'd fallen asleep while he'd been reading to Viv. He examined the mandrake carefully, holding samples of the potion, uncorked, around it. It didn't move towards them at all. 

    Draco met Harry's eyes, a grin spreading across his face.

    He'd succeeded.