At this point, I'm not even going to make any excuses... I haven't written anything in this for some years, but that doesn't mean it's abandoned. I'll be coming back to this and finishing it, because I do want to finish this.

I think there's one more chapter before the writing style will change, since this is everything I wrote a few years ago.

To those who are still reading, I hope you enjoy! I'm glad you guys liked the last chapter. This one doesn't have any flashbacks so it's shorter, and that's because it's all about Christmas. Which is weird because it's March, but well...

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 13: Happy Christmas, Harry

December 15, 1994

"Watch your step, Potter; you almost stepped on my toes." Draco grimaced as Harry did step on his toes then. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you stepped on them on purpose there."

Mentally counting and listening with half an ear to the music playing in the classroom, Harry gave Draco a little twirl and then continued dancing. "Maybe I did and maybe I didn't. Dancing isn't as easy as some would make us believe."

"Perhaps you're just ridiculously clumsy, Potter."

Harry led Draco through the last steps of the dance and drew apart as the music died down.

Draco let go of his hands and took another step back. "Not bad, Potter. Perhaps now your date will no longer fear for her feet."

Harry smirked, recognizing the praise for what it was. "For someone who just insulted my sense of balance not two minutes ago, you change your mind quickly. I'll be sure to tell my date you said so."

Draco glared and gave his wand a flick, turning off the record player as it started to play the next song. "Who are you going with?"

Harry shot him a grin. "How do you know I'm not going with you?"

Draco grimaced. "Even if I did bend that way, I'm not attracted to you, Potter. I'd never say yes."

Giving a shrug, Harry said indifferently, "Fair enough. No worries, though, Draco; you'll find out at the Yule Ball."

"See if I will," Draco said, beginning to pack up the record player.

"Oh you will," Harry said easily, picking up his book bag and turning away. "I have the opening dance of the ball after all."

Hearing Draco almost drop the record player was worth the hex shot at his back in the next moment.

Ron was the only one sitting by the fire in the common room when Harry joined him. Hermione was apparently still in the library.

"Hermione sent me out," Ron told Harry in disgust. "There were too many girls giggling over Krum."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the resentful note in Ron's tone. "What do you have against Krum?"

"He's been hanging around the area where Hermione's sitting," Ron explained in a low voice. "He's going to ask her, I know he is."

Harry didn't see the point. "She already told you yes, didn't she?"

"It's Krum, Harry," Ron moaned, looking ill. "Who's to say she won't dump me and go with him?"

Giving a brief curse for not understanding immediately, Harry began to assuage his friend's worries. "First of all, Ron, this is Hermione we're talking about. She won't just dump you and go with some Quidditch bloke she couldn't give two hoots about. Second, she probably will dump you if you go and say that in her hearing."

Ron blanched upon hearing Harry. "Not to worry," he croaked, his voice deadly quiet. "I'll keep my mouth shut."

"She likes that about you, you know," Harry said, leaning closer to him. "That includes your mouth. And I don't mean that in a dirty way. All she wants is a little sensitivity."

Ron looked up at Harry. "You really think so?"

Harry started slightly at the insecure note in Ron's tone. "Of course I do. Why?"

Ron offered a half shrug, looking away. "I just thought she might…you know…go for you."

"Me?"

Ron shot Harry an irritated look. "Come on, Harry… You're smart, brilliant, good-looking, famous—"

"My fame can go sod itself," Harry said fiercely. "All those things you said about me? The same goes for you." When Ron gave an incredulous snort, he persisted, "It's true. You're absolutely brilliant at chess. Do you have any idea how well that applies to real life? And you are good-looking."

Though Ron was still eyeing Harry in disbelief, nothing more could be said as Neville sat across from them, face flushed.

Harry recognized the signs of someone in distress. "Neville, you all right?"

Neville looked at him. "Is it true, Harry?" he whispered. "Are you…are you really going with Ginny to the ball?"

"You still don't have a date?" Ron asked, surprised.

Neville looked absolutely miserable. "I asked Ginny…"

Who had Neville gone with last time? Harry remembered that it had been someone with red hair… Ginny had looked stunning that night.

"Bad luck, Neville," Ron said sympathetically.

"I know," Neville said miserably.

"What about Parvati or Lavender?" Ron suggested.

Neville looked so uncomfortable that Harry had to say something. "Are they too girly for you?"

Neville nodded slowly while Ron cried indignantly, "My sister's a girl, too, if you hadn't noticed!"

"She's not as giggly or prone to fits of sensitivity," Harry said hastily, realizing he'd come across the wrong way. "Hermione's the same way. They're both girls, but they don't see eye to eye with the others because they're different."

"I see," Ron said, mollified. "But, Neville, you haven't asked anyone else?"

"I don't know anyone else!" Neville wailed.

"You've been here four years," Harry said incredulously. "You must know someone. Have you thought of asking someone on the Quidditch team?"

"They've all found dates," Ron said. "I think Fred asked Angelina the other night. Katie was asked by George… Have you figured out who they're writing to by any chance?"

"No," Harry said, knowing full well it was Ludo Bagman. "It's probably something to do with their joke shop. Neville, have you tried asking anyone younger? Or from a different House?"

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Maybe one of those Beauxbatons girls…"

"I heard that that Fleur girl's already going with someone from Hogwarts," Neville said. "I don't really know anyone else, Harry."

Sighing, Harry sat back as Ron tried to convince Neville to ask a Beauxbatons girl to the ball. He would have suggested Hannah Abbot since she and Neville had gotten along so swimmingly in the future, but he'd heard she already had a date.

All the other girls in Hogwarts would either make Neville too uncomfortable, were unfamiliar to him, or had been taken…

Except for one since she was considered too strange.

"What about Luna Lovegood?" Harry asked, cutting Ron off mid-word.

Ron and Neville stared at Harry blankly.

"Luna Lovegood?" Ron repeated.

"That girl Ginny studies with?" Neville guessed.

"Third-year Ravenclaw," Harry said, thinking that Luna would be good for Neville at this point. "Lots think her strange, but she's really nice. She'll talk about exotic creatures no one's ever heard of, but it's really interesting. Why don't you ask her?"

"I've heard that people call her Loony," Neville whispered. "Are you sure, Harry?"

A surge of anger shot through Harry upon hearing the cruel nickname, but he forced himself to reply calmly. "Absolutely. Don't believe everything you hear or read. If you did, you'd know I was really a sarcastic grief-stricken teenager who's in over his head."

"You're not still peeved about that article that Skeeter woman wrote, are you?" Ron asked. "It's been over a month!"

"You'd be peeved, too," Harry said, remembering that he'd burned the article with satisfaction after reading it. "That second one made me out to be some sort of freak! She could at least get her facts straight."

"Yeah… You didn't do a loop-de-loop around the dragon's head," Ron said, amused.

"Whatever the case," Harry said, glaring at his friend, "you can ask Luna, Neville. She'll be thrilled."

Neville still seemed uncertain but he agreed. When he left, presumably to ask Luna, Ron exhaled gustily and looked at Harry. "Where do you find these girls?"

Harry shrugged and pushed Ron's textbook towards him. "I know people. Now, finish that essay before I go down to detention."

When Harry wandered through the halls to the seventh floor for his "detention" with Severus (which he'd received by apparently causing a Slytherin to trip over his robes; Severus was getting creative with his excuses), he didn't expect anyone else to be around.

So when a dreamy voice spoke from behind him, he whirled around with his wand in hand before he could think. His wand was pointed directly at Luna, who hadn't reacted beyond blinking.

"You didn't have to do that," she said, meeting Harry's eyes.

It was the same thing she'd said before he pulled a wand on her so clearly she didn't mean his reflexive reaction. "Do what?"

"Tell Neville to ask me. It was nice of you, but you didn't have to."

"I wanted to," Harry said, wondering how she had found out. "So he asked after all?"

"I said yes," Luna said. "He seemed rather surprised to tell you the truth. The Wrackspurts have latched onto him rather badly, haven't they?"

"Err…suppose so." Harry refrained from checking his watch.

"You've got a terrible infestation of the Time Tigglers," Luna continued conversationally.

Harry froze, blinking rapidly. "The what?"

"Time Tigglers. They infest those who have traveled through time," Luna said. "I've always wondered what it's like to travel through time."

Hearing the unspoken question, Harry forced himself to respond. "It's nothing special."

"Isn't it difficult?" Luna asked.

"What?"

How much did she know? Or did she just suspect, like Hermione?

"Isn't it difficult to keep everything straight?" Luna wasn't really watching him, but rather something over his head. "What's already happened, what's happening, and what should happen?"

With a chill, Harry realized that Luna's dreamy countenance belied a very cunning intellect that had only been hinted at in the original timeline. Not even Hermione had been so quick…

Time Tigglers?

Was it possible that these creatures Luna always went on about were real? Real and just not visible to the general populace?

He had to say something. "It's manageable."

Luna smiled. "Was I your friend?"

Harry's mouth was dry as he responded. "One of my best."

She already knew and Harry knew he could trust her with his life. He had, in fact, already done so numerous times. There was no reason to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about.

A happy smile crossed Luna's face upon Harry's answer. "I'm glad," she said. "Friends are wonderful, aren't they?"

"Yes," Harry agreed, thinking of Severus, who was undoubtedly wondering where he was.

As if reading his mind, Luna nodded. "You're late, aren't you?"

Harry looked at his watch and saw that he was now ten minutes late. "Yes, I am. I'll talk to you later, Luna."

"All right, Harry." Luna waved goodbye as he left.

Stunned by the strange conversation he had just had, Harry made his way through the corridors more absentmindedly than he usually would have.

When he finally opened the door to the Room of Requirement, Harry snapped to attention as a Blood-Boiling Curse zoomed his way. He flicked the curse out of the way, sending it back to the original caster.

"Decided to change it up, Potter?" Severus asked, side-stepping the curse. "You're twelve minutes late."

"Luna knows," Harry said without any preamble.

Severus narrowed his eyes. "That you are attending the Yule Ball with Ms. Weasley?"

"She already knew that. I asked Ginny in front of her." Harry wondered if he could be any blunter. "She knows that I've traveled through time."

"What did you do?" Severus demanded.

Harry glared at him, pointing his wand at Severus. "I didn't do anything! I can't help it if I flinch or draw my wand at large noises. The only person who realized anything's off is Hermione, and she doesn't really know."

"Minerva suspects something has changed," Severus said. "Your suddenly brilliant marks and suspicious lack of quarreling with Malfoy have something to do with it."

Harry blinked, disconcerted. "Really… Huh… I didn't expect that."

Severus caught his attention with a hex that he blocked.

"Never mind that," Severus said impatiently. "What of Lovegood?"

"She saw Time Tigglers around me or something," Harry said, ignoring Severus's disbelieving snort. "However she did it, she's clearly brilliant." He paused shortly and continued softly, "She helped us out then…and found sanctuary for the remaining students."

"She certainly is something," Severus said. "I still have yet to discover how she managed to brew a Hair-Growth Potion when assigned a Boil-Removing Potion."

Harry frowned. "Don't those two use completely different ingredients?"

"Exactly."

Harry tried to figure it out and failed when the theory went beyond his mental understanding. He needed a sheet of parchment and lots of time. "Amazing…"

"Was there something else?" Severus asked.

"No." Harry raised his wand, but held off as Severus fingered his, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Are you all right?"

Severus's tone was stilted. "You have been slightly…preoccupied lately. Is something…bothering you?"

Harry was touched that Severus cared enough to ask. "No. I'm fine."

Severus scowled, glaring at Harry. "The rote answer. If you cannot trust me—"

"That's not it! I do trust you!"

"Then tell me!" Severus snapped. "It has been affecting your performance."

Hogwash. Harry had been "performing" just fine regardless of his brooding thoughts. He'd long ago learned to do so, as things would have been worse off otherwise.

But if this was the only way Severus could tell him that he was concerned – and this was clearly difficult for the man – then Harry should take the next step and tell him. It was the least he could do.

Severus was watching him expectantly.

Unbidden, the words fell from Harry's lips. "I'm thirty years old."

Severus seemed surprised that Harry had even said anything but vanquished the emotion. "And?"

"They're so young."

Severus's eyebrows rose. "This is about Ginevra Weasley?"

Harry shook his head, feeling tired. "Not just her, Severus. I'm thirty…but I'm physically fourteen. My friends are fourteen – except for you – and the age difference won't change."

"They will grow older," Severus pointed out. "What's so apparent now will not matter in ten years."

"What about what I've seen? What I've done?" Harry looked at him desperately. "Your generation grew up fighting a war, Severus. You've killed, as have I. The friends I grew up with did the same. Now…they're so innocent…"

"Is that not what you are trying to preserve?"

"It is." Harry pushed up his glasses, thumbing the bridge of his nose. "But what I've seen, what I've done…they can never understand."

Severus folded his arms. "And this relates to your friends how?"

Harry folded his own arms defensively. "I…I feel dirty just thinking about Ginny that way."

"Then don't," Severus said simply.

Harry's arms dropped. "Don't?" he spluttered. "How—"

"As you have said," Severus continued calmly, "she is thirteen. She is not the same woman that died, the woman you remember. You can treat her as a close friend, can you not? In several years, she will no longer be a child. Whether you still see her that way in that time remains to be seen."

Harry inhaled sharply, his emotions still rolling tumultuously inside him.

His inner conflict must have shown in some way for Severus continued speaking. "As for your friends, though they will never be the same as you remember, you will still 'grow up' with them in a matter of speaking. You are planning on telling them, are you not?"

"Eventually," Harry murmured, shifting.

"The knowledge itself will already change them," Severus said. "Once they know, they will better understand you."

Harry sat down heavily on a table by the wall. He was suddenly very thankful he had Severus for a friend. His logical and cool mind always picked out things that his own highly emotional mind disregarded.

Severus studied him. "Are you…?" His tone sounded highly uncomfortable, as if he'd realized that he had just offered someone comfort of a sort.

Harry understood. "I'll be fine."

And he would be…given time.

"My dress robes are absolute rubbish," Ron muttered disgustedly, studying the chessboard with a black look.

"What color would you prefer?" Harry asked, checking the time. It was ten at night on Christmas Eve. He wasn't meeting Severus for another two hours.

"Anything but maroon," Ron said, moving his rook. "And no lace."

Harry studied the board, saw the trap Ron had set up, and adjusted his move accordingly. "I could try to do something," he offered. "If you want, I'll have a go at it tomorrow."

Ron looked at him hopefully. "Would you? Wait…do you even know how?"

"It's a simple bit of Transfiguration," Harry said.

Ron didn't ask anymore than that and happily captured Harry's queen in an unexpected move. Sighing in disgust, Harry began to study the chessboard more intensely. His game had improved drastically since the war, but he still stunk at creating elaborate plans ahead of time. His forte was in the heat of battle, where he could make up and discard plans in the blink of an eye as the situation rapidly changed around him.

Hermione joined them, having left the other girls to their giggling. "Who's winning?"

"Ron," Harry said just as Ron said, "No one so far."

Harry blinked in surprise while Hermione murmured, "Really…" She eyed Harry speculatively.

Ron moved his knight and formed two traps that Harry couldn't avoid. He would set one of them off regardless of what he did.

As Harry debated his next move, Hermione said, "Have you figured out the egg yet, Harry?"

"The egg?" Harry scowled upon seeing he'd have to give up his bishop and did so.

"The egg," Hermione confirmed, irritated. "I wanted to see it again. Maybe I can figure something out—"

"I already did," Harry said, watching Ron take his bishop with a frustrated look on his face. Evidently the redhead had expected him to make a much more foolish move.

Hermione looked surprised. "You did? What is it?"

"Dunk it underwater," Harry said in a low voice, for once thankful for the loud din. "It turns to English."

Hermione's mouth had dropped in stunned surprise. "Mermaids?"

"Really?" Ron asked, interested. "You have to fight one?"

"Find something they'll take from me is more like it," Harry said. "I have an hour."

"An hour underwater?" Hermione said, alarmed. "Why didn't you tell us sooner, Harry? We have to—"

"I wanted to enjoy Christmas," Harry interrupted. "I knew that if I told you before, you'd worry and start researching. I have until February, Hermione."

"It can wait," Ron agreed. "Hey, Harry, are you going to make a move?"

"Don't rush me," Harry scolded, sparing a glance downward. His chess pieces were waiting in nervous anticipation, having gotten used to Harry's better skills. "So, Hermione, leave it for later, all right?"

"All right," Hermione agreed reluctantly.

The issue settled, Harry and Ron returned to their chess match. It ended an hour later with Ron finally victorious, having sprung an elaborate trap Harry hadn't caught until three moves too late.

It was thus a little after midnight when Harry made his way to Severus's quarters. He knocked and waited for a moment beneath his Invisibility Cloak for Severus to open the door.

When he did, it was to a warm and cozily lit room. Harry stepped in, twisting himself visible as he did.

"I didn't expect that you would come," Severus said finally after Harry made himself comfortable.

"I had a chess game," Harry explained, watching his friend take a seat. "They didn't get to bed until half past eleven."

"I see."

There was a short uncomfortable silence until Harry decided he'd had enough. Severus obviously wasn't sure where to begin.

He reached into his robes and pulled out a flat round package wrapped in a dark green that was decorated with glittering snowflakes. "Happy Christmas, Severus."

Reminiscent of the first time Harry had given Severus a Christmas present, the man was silent as Harry pushed the present in his hands. Unsure, he held it tentatively.

"I know the wrapping paper is stunning," Harry said, keeping his voice even despite his nerves, "but the actual present is inside."

Severus started slightly and glanced at Harry quickly before looking back down at the gift. Slowly, he began to unwrap the present.

Harry watched attentively, as he hadn't been there the first time Severus had unwrapped the present. After that Christmas, he had simply shown up on New Years' Eve with a bottle of champagne and stayed long into the first day of 1999 despite the rather awkward atmosphere. Severus had never said anything about the gift, though Harry knew he had treasured it.

When the gift was fully unwrapped, Severus was absolutely silent for a long moment, an indiscernible expression on his face. Eventually, it morphed into something undeniably tender and he touched the picture as if it was the most fragile thing in the world.

Set in the photo frame of a lily was a Muggle photograph of Severus and Lily at twelve years of age. Lily was looking at the lily in her hands with a soft smile on her face, while a clearly bashful Severus looked on nervously.

"I found it," Harry said uncertainly upon Severus's extended silence, "in Godric's Hollow." The sound of Harry's voice made Severus look up, as if remembering that he was there. Harry continued, nervous now, "You might not like the picture frame. You never told me—"

"It's perfect," Severus said abruptly, cutting Harry off. "Thank you…Harry."

Harry blinked, thrown off by the use of his first name. "Wow… Is that my Christmas present?"

Severus looked uncomfortable. "Hardly, P-Harry. It wouldn't be much of one." He shifted nervously and retrieved a package from the table by him. It was wrapped in a shimmery silver and bore a dark green ribbon.

Harry took it nervously, having not really expected a present at all. He'd only told Severus about everything in September and though they had spent a lot of time together, Harry hadn't thought that Severus really truly considered him a close friend. A close acquaintance, yes, but a friend?

He remembered the memories he had given Severus and wondered if the man had viewed all of them yet. He didn't need them back – they were only copies – but he wondered.

"I know the wrapping paper is stunning," Severus said dryly, clearly still uncomfortable, "but the actual present is inside."

Embarrassed at having his own words thrown back at him, Harry began unwrapping the present. It felt oddly like a book…

The last of the wrapping paper fell to the side and Harry stared at the leather-bound journal in stunned astonishment. It looked so familiar…

With trembling fingers, Harry opened the front cover and was greeted with a familiar spidery crawl that read

I trust you will find this useful.

Severus Snape

The next pages were filled with writing. After only a cursory glance, Harry could tell that the entire journal was filled with potions recipes and Severus's own private notes.

It was very similar, if not exactly identical, to Harry's very first present from Severus. He suspected that Severus had given him this with that knowledge in mind. For the man, it was a promise of friendship and a declaration of trust.

Harry found that there was a lump in his throat as he looked up at a visibly nervous Severus, though the only way one could tell was because the man was absolutely still.

"Thank you," Harry said thickly. For absolutely everything… He cleared his throat and tried again. "Thank you, Severus. You have no idea how…how much this means to me."

Severus cleared his throat as well, reading the second layer in Harry's words. "I have some idea," he said in a rough voice. "I am pleased you approve of it. It took up a great deal of my time."

Remembering all the nights that Severus had been scribbling away during the time Harry had still been practicing by himself, he smiled at Severus. "Happy Christmas, Severus."

It took Severus a moment longer but he responded. "Happy Christmas…Harry."

Harry woke with a start that morning after his meeting with Severus, drawing his wand and binding his attacker with a mere thought.

It took a moment for his brain to catch up and Harry realized with horror that he had just bound Dobby to the wall.

"Dobby, I'm sorry!" He released the house-elf as quickly as he could.

Dobby seemed bashful and not at all frightened. "Dobby is sorry, sir!" he whispered loudly. "Dobby has forgotten that he is not to startle Harry Potter like that, sir!"

Before Harry could ask him what he meant, he saw that the other boys in the dormitory were looking at him and Dobby with sleepy curiosity.

"Someone attacking you, Harry?" Seamus asked.

"No," Harry said, thankful for this fact. He realized he was still holding his wand and put it away as quickly as he could. "It's just Dobby. Go back to sleep."

"Nah…presents!" Seamus bounded out of bed to attack his large pile.

Aware that the others were doing the same, Harry turned back to Dobby, wandlessly putting up a weak Silencing Charm. The house-elf had a Christmas bauble tied to his tea cozy.

"What did you mean that you forgot?" Harry asked. "I never told you!"

"Harry Potter did not need to!" Dobby replied earnestly. "His magic is active and Dobby should know better!"

Wondering about that, Harry decided to let it drop. The dorm was not the best place for such a conversation.

"Did you need something?" Harry asked, pulling down the charm.

Dobby began beaming. "Dobby wanted to wish Harry Potter 'Happy Christmas' and give him his present!" He handed Harry the small package he had with him.

Unwrapping it, Harry found it to be a pair of socks. One was bright red with broomsticks while the other was green with Snitches. Remembering the sacrifice Dobby had made so long ago – or three years in the future – Harry was fiercely glad that the loyal house-elf was here.

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said, smiling. He pulled on them on, eliciting a broad happy smile from the house-elf. I've got something for you, too."

That might not have been true last time but it was certainly true now.

Harry rummaged around in his night table and pulled out a garishly wrapped package that he knew Dobby would love, handing it to an overcome Dobby.

The house-elf undid the package to reveal a pair of blue woolen socks. He was thoroughly delighted upon seeing them.

"Socks are Dobby's favorite, favorite clothes, sir!" Dobby said delightedly, taking off his old mismatched socks and pulling the new ones. "I have seven now, sir… But sir…" His eyes were widening upon seeing the socks, which had been extended to their fullest amount so that they touched the bottom of his shorts. "They has made a mistake in the shop, Harry Potter, they is giving you two the same!"

Before Harry could berate himself for having forgotten this other penchant of Dobby, Ron saved him. "Ah, no, Harry, how come you didn't spot that?" He was sporting a wide grin. "Tell you what, Dobby – here you go – take these two, and you can mix them up properly. And here's your sweater."

He threw Dobby a pair of violet socks he'd unwrapped – Harry wondered if the giver was perhaps colorblind; Ron didn't like violet – and the hand-knitted sweater Molly had given him.

Dobby was quite overwhelmed at Ron's generosity. "Sir is very kind!" he gushed, his eyes brimming with tears. He bowed deeply to Ron. "Dobby knew sir must be a great wizard, for he is one of Harry Potter's greatest friends, but Dobby did not know that he was also as generous of spirit, as noble, as selfless—"

"They're only socks," Ron said, whose ears were slightly pink by now. He was still opening presents and pulled out the present Harry had given him. "Wow, Harry… A wand holster?"

"So what happened at the Cup doesn't happen again," Harry said. "You put it on like this." He pulled up his right arm sleeve and showed Ron his own. "And the wand goes in like this." He demonstrated with a quick flick of his wrist.

"So that explains how you're always so quick on the draw," Ron said, pulling it on and admiring how it looked. He didn't seem to notice Harry's startled face. He put his wand inside and gave a couple of experimental flicks. "Thanks, Harry!"

So Ron had noticed that he was jumpier than usual? And he hadn't asked? Harry suspected Hermione's involvement.

Dobby had finished pulling on one of the violet socks and Molly's sweater. "Dobby must go now, sir," he told Harry, "we is already making Christmas dinner in the kitchens!" And then he hurried out of the dormitory, waving to everyone.

Ron finished unwrapping his presents and jumped on Harry's bed. "What have you got, mate?"

Harry began opening his own presents, realizing that this was the first proper Christmas he'd had in years without the threat of Voldemort hanging over his head. Well…he was still hanging over his head. He just wasn't threatening Harry with attacks on his friends.

The Dursleys had actually given Harry a shirt this year and Harry supposed they were remembering his threats from the summer. Granted, the shirt was too large and the colors ridiculous, but he supposed it was the thought that counted. Hermione's present was a book called Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland; Ron had given Harry a bag of Dungbombs that Harry thought he might use in Trelawney's classroom. No one could deny the room needed a different perfume. Sirius's present was a penknife with attachments that could unlock any lock and undo any knot; Harry resolved to treasure this as he had never been able to find another after it had been ruined in his fifth year. Hagrid had given him a box full of sweets, from which Harry gave Ron some since it was too much. Molly had again come through to send him a green sweater with a dragon on it and a quantity of homemade mince pies.

"Suppose she thinks you could do with some fattening up," Ron said, watching Harry pull out the pies. "Don't know why…you're looking pretty good."

The only reason Harry was looking good and more like a normal fourteen-year-old was because of the modified nutrition potion Severus had been brewing.

"Oh, Harry, look…" Ron caught his attention. "You've got two more presents. Who're they from?"

Surprised, Harry picked the two packages. He couldn't think of anyone else who would be sending him something. He checked them for spells and came up empty.

Wondering, Harry began to unwrap the one that was wrapped rather simply in plain brown paper. He had given Kreacher and Draco something this Christmas, considering them his friends even if the house-elf had only seen him once and Draco was still uncertain around him.

Kreacher had received an old picture of Regulus Black that Harry had found in the library one day. He knew Madame Pince would never miss it since the book had been shelved in a forgotten corner of the library that no one ever went into, the picture tucked away as an afterthought by some long-forgotten student. To Draco had gone his model of the Hungarian Ridgeback he'd faced in his first task. Considering the meaning of Draco's name, he thought it an appropriate present.

But he didn't expect anything from those two so who would—

A box fell into Harry's lap. Curious now, Harry opened it and stopped in surprise upon seeing treacle tart in it. There was no note but as Harry took a closer look at the box, he saw the Black insignia on it. So it was from Kreacher…

Pleased at the thoughtfulness of the old house-elf and wondering how he knew of Harry's fondness for treacle tart, Harry moved onto the other, more elaborately wrapped present. There was a card with this one.

Potter,

I don't expect you to learn these moves by heart but it's a good start.

Thanks for the dragon. It was unusually thoughtful.

Draco Malfoy

"Malfoy?" Ron said incredulously. "Malfoy sent you something?"

"Apparently," Harry said, looking at the book filled with dancing instructions. It was an odd present from the Malfoy but Harry suspected it was rather because Draco didn't know what else to give.

"It's not cursed, is it?" Ron asked suspiciously, looking at the book as if it might bite their heads off. "Why is he sending you a book on dancing?"

"I did him a favor a while back," Harry said, "and I asked him to teach me how to dance. I didn't want to embarrass myself, you know. I suppose he thought I did well enough."

Ron spluttered in disgust and shock. "You asked Malfoy to teach you how to dance?"

"I figured he would know," Harry said, organizing his presents. He held the shirt the Dursleys had given him and thought it might be a good present for Hagrid if he cast an Engorgio. But since Hagrid already had a present from him and the shirt was very hideous, Harry thought he should just bury it at the bottom of his trunk and forget about it.

"And what dragon is he talking about?" Ron said, completely lost. "Not a real one, surely?"

"Hell no," Harry said in alarm. "Have you forgotten Hagrid? I gave him the model of the dragon I received after the first task."

"Oh," Ron said, relieved. "That's all right then…"

They were about to head downstairs when Ron asked in a low voice, "So I suppose you were serious, then, about making Malfoy your friend?"

Harry paused, sensing that Ron was worried about something. "I am," he said cautiously, turning to look his friend in the eye. "He's not a bad bloke, really, when you get past his snobbiness. He won't ever be my best friend, though."

These words had the desired effect and Ron's face relaxed.

As they met up with Hermione and headed to breakfast, Harry thought that this Christmas had been very promising so far.

The topic of the mental age difference between Harry and his friends is something that I always find interesting in time travel fics. And it's one that deserves to be brought up. Also, there isn't going to be any romance for Harry in this story. He was in a relationship in his apocalyptic future, but he's not in one now and won't be in one. Namely because of the age difference and also because I don't have any desire to write one. So, rest assured, there are only going to be a few scenes about the whole Harry/Ginny thing and that'll be it.

And Luna! I love the idea of a Luna who sees more than others can.

Let me know what you thought!