Well, hello, everyone! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I wanted to put a festive fic up on the day of, and I finally did! This was origionally two fics, (each of them very unsatisfactory), and I was dithering about trying to decide what to post and BAM! Inspiration: splice them together. I'm happy with the outcome, but feedback would be appreciated.

Warnings: Mild Drarry ( 3 ) slash, some language, and Luna-ness.

I don't own Harry Potter! Happy Christmas!

"Go," Harry urged, waving Ron and Hermione away, "GO, have fun, don't worry about me!"

"But," Hermione protested for the hundredth time, "Harry, you'll be alone, come with us, please…"

Harry shook his head firmly. He'd gone over this already.

"Harry, mate," Ron said, clapping him on the back, "We just don't want you to spend Christmas alone. Mum wants you over, really, she wrote me."

"I want to stay at Hogwarts, Ron," Harry pressed. "Honestly. You two are going to miss the train if you keep badgering me any longer. Go on, give everyone my best. Happy Christmas!"

With lingering, regretful looks back at Harry, his best friends made their way over to the train, dragging their trunks behind them.

It wouldn't be right, to stay at the burrow this Christmas, Harry thought, traipsing back to Gryffindor tower. After the war, everyone had changed. Not radically, no, Ron and Hermione were as close as ever, and the Weasleys still considered Harry an honorary family member.

But… something had changed. Maybe it was the way Harry couldn't look at Molly Weasley without feeling a pang of guilt and sorrow stab through him, or how Ginny hadn't gone out of her way to make any contact, or how close Ron and Hermione had gotten, leaving him feeling just a little alone.

Or maybe it was the empty, lost feeling he got lately whenever he remembered the war.

Which was all the time. He couldn't forget it. It had been his life, his purpose. And now… now he was lost.

"Harry!" For a split second Harry thought Ron and Hermione had changed their minds again, but then he recognized the voice, and turned.

"Oh, hello Luna," he said glumly, waiting for the girl to catch up. She was festively dressed, in a dress that hung to her knees and glittered red and green. A shimmering, lit up star was affixed to a headband across her brow.

"Harry," she said, breathing hard after running to catch up with him, "I'm so glad I've found you."

Harry waited, grinning. That was another thing that had changed after the war; he and Luna had grown unexpectedly close. Something about her view of the world made forgetting the war a bit easier.

"It's the nargles," she said seriously, "They're everywhere in the castle, and they're up to no good. You've got to help me get rid of them before they upset the twist-toed frollips."

"Frollips?" Harry questioned.

"The benevolent spirits that keep the toxic mold out of the dungeons. They hate nargles, and if we don't get rid of them, the Slytherins won't have anywhere to live! Will you help?"

As much as Harry liked the idea of uprooting his rival house, the look Luna gave him convinced him.

"Course I will, Luna. Nargles live in mistletoe, right?"

Luna beamed at him.

And so Harry found himself dashing along Hogwarts' corridors, pulled by the hand by Luna, looking for mistletoe.

"There!" Luna said, pointing. A sprig of mistletoe was nestled above the doorway that was the entrance to the dungeons, thrown into sharp relief by the torchlight.

"What do we do?" Harry asked.

"Nargles have an aversion to peppermint," Luna said, and pulled out a candy cane from behind her ear.

"Handy that it's Christmas, then," Harry said.

"Isn't it? Watch closely, Harry." Luna stretched up on her tiptoes, waving the candy cane in a circle around the mistletoe. Harry obediently watched, and was shocked to see a dull glowing thing come flitting out, circle the candy angrily, and then disappear.

"Luna!" Harry said, stunned. "I saw something! It was glowing…"

Luna looked delighted.

"Wonderful, Harry! You were watching! That was a nargle. Would you like to do the next one?"

Harry nodded, still amazed. He had just been humoring Luna, honestly. But he had seen a nargle…

"Hermione'll never believe this," he muttered, and took the candy cane from Luna. "Where next?"

"The ones in the rest of the castle don't matter," Luna explained. "But the ones in the dungeons need to go. We'll just have to find all of the mistletoe down here."

Lucky many of the Slytherins had gone home for the holidays, or they wouldn't have had such an easy time traversing the labyrinth under Hogwarts.

Indeed, Harry had never wished to have such an in-depth tour of the dungeons. But explore it Harry did, diligently assisting Luna in banishing nargles.

"In here, Harry," Luna said sometime later, at around the twentieth mistletoe, pointing to a passage that he hadn't noticed. "I thought I heard something. It didn't sound much like a nargle, though."

Harry took the lead, drawing out his wand.

"Lumos," he whispered, lighting up the corridor. It was more of a tunnel, really, carved crudely out of the stone.

He heard a faint groan, farther down the passage.

"I heard it too," he told Luna, and kept towards the noise. At the end of the passage was a cave-like room, with nothing in it.

Nothing, except the prone form of a blond-haired boy.

"Malfoy?" Harry said, dumbfounded. Luna came up beside him to stare along with him.

"He's been petrified," she noted vaguely, already scanning the room for mistletoe.

Harry hastily dropped down beside the stunned body, which looked a little worse for the wear. How long had he been there?

"Finite incantatem." He cast the counter-spell, and Malfoy came to life, coughing raggedly.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked, helping the boy sit up. "How long have you been here? Who did this?"

"P-Pot-" the Slytherin tried to answer, but dissolved into dry coughs again.

"Luna, have you got any water?" Harry asked, turning to the girl. Luna picked up a pebble from the ground and gave her wand a complicated twirl, transfiguring into a crude cup.

"Aguamenti," she said, and filled the cup with fresh water from her wand. Harry passed it to Malfoy, who gulped greedily.

"What happened?" Harry asked again.

"Ambushed," Malfoy croaked, "Revenge."

"Revenge for what?" Harry asked, baffled.

"Sister killed by death eaters," Malfoy explained.

"But you didn't kill her, did you?" Harry demanded, enraged. Malfoy shook his head. "Then why were you attacked?"

"Someone's got to be blamed," Malfoy said, and struggled to stand up. "Now, Potter, if you don't mind…" He took a staggering step towards the tunnel.

"Hang on!" Harry protested, grabbing Malfoy's arm, "How long were you in here?" The blonde considered the question.

"What day is it?"

"The twenty-first."

"Day and a half," the Slytherin said nonchalantly.

"What!" Harry yelled, furious. "What if no one had found you? You could have died!" Malfoy just shrugged, taking another jilted step.

Harry scrambled after him.

"Luna!" He called.

"I'll catch up, Harry," she said, "Don't worry, we've almost got all of the nargles. I'll just finish up here and meet you in the kitchens."

Harry nodded, deciding not to wonder how she knew he had decided to take Malfoy to get some food.

Speaking of… Malfoy was already at the end of the corridor, emerging into the wider hallway. He stumbled and would have fallen, had Harry not reached him in time. He dragged Malfoy's arm across his shoulders, ignoring the blonde's struggling.

"Potter, what-"

"You can't walk, Malfoy, would you rather I levitate you?"

"I don't need your help," he snarled, breaking free and immediately falling to his knees, "Damn it."

"Malfoy, please," Harry pleaded, growing impatient. "You're about the only Slytherin staying over the holidays. Let me help you."

"Not happy unless you're playing hero, eh, Potter? No one to save after the war, so you've sunk to the likes of me? I'm not a charity case, Scarhead!"

Harry was baffled, to say the least.

"No, Malfoy, look-" Harry broke off, running a hand through his hair. "I'm just trying to help, okay? I'm not… playing hero, or whatever. You can't even walk, what am I supposed to do, leave you there? Just let me help."

Malfoy was silent for a few seconds, then dipped his head fractionally.

"Whatever, Potty. But no one hears about this."

"Fine. C'mon." Harry pulled Malfoy to his feet, once again drawing the blonde's arm across his shoulders, and slipping an arm around his waist. "Let's go to the kitchens, you must be hungry."

Malfoy attempted to deny it, but a growling stomach put an end to his objections.

Slowly, painstakingly, the pair made their way to the kitchens, hobbling awkwardly up stairs and down corridors.

"Why are you here anyway, Potter?" Malfoy finally said, apparently tired of the awkward silence. "Would have thought you'd be with your beloved weasel and mu- Granger."

Malfoy tried to cover the slip, but Harry caught it and grinned to himself, then frowned at the question.

"Decided to stay," he said, as they approached the painting of the fruit bowl, "Didn't feel right. I've just felt…"

"Lost?" Malfoy said, peering at him, then looked away quickly. Harry tickled the pear thoughtfully.

"Yeah," he said, as the door swung open, "Lost."

It seemed the elves were on break for Christmas too, as there were only four or five tidying up the kitchen. They looked up as Harry helped Malfoy in, immediately rushing to their aide.

Harry sat on one of the house table doubles, and Malfoy sank down next to him, relieved.

"He hasn't eaten in a while," Harry told the elves, "Can you bring us something, I don't know, nourishing?"

The elves nodded happily, whisking food onto the table at lightning speed. Stew, a thick bread, and a tall glass of pumpkin juice appeared in front of Malfoy, who dug in hungrily. The same was placed in front of Harry, who went at it with considerably less gusto.

"Thanks," Harry said. The elves fell over themselves bowing and ensuring that if they needed anything at all, they would be happy to provide it.

There were a few minutes of chewing and swallowing in silence, while Malfoy devoured his stew.

"Who did it?" Harry asked, still angry.

"None of your damn business," Malfoy said, pointing his spoon threateningly at him. "I don't need the Boy Who Lived swooping in and saving me. I can take care of my own problems."

"Merlin, Malfoy, what's wrong with accepting help?"

"I don't need it!" the Slytherin growled. Harry kept quiet for a few more minutes.

"Why aren't you home for Christmas?"

Malfoy threw down his spoon.

"Why do you want to know, Potter? Can't you leave well enough alone?" Harry raised his hands in the air.

"I didn't mean to pry," he objected, "I was just making conversation. Why are you so bloody defensive?"

"Why were you sneaking around the dungeons with Loony, anyway?" Malfoy asked suddenly, changing subject.

"Don't call her that!" Harry snapped. "And we were eradicating nargles so the dungeons don't mold."

Malfoy snorted a laugh.

"Playing along with Lovegood's make-believe games? Childish, Potter."

"Don't say that," Harry growled, "And the nargles are real. I saw them today. Which led to me saying your arse, if you don't remember."

Malfoy was silent for a few moments longer, taking a few more bites of stew.

"What do they look like?" he asked.

"What do what look like?"

"Lovegood's nargle-things! If you saw them, what do they look like?"

"Oh." Harry contemplated the oddness of this question for a second, then answered. "Sort of like a little glowing light. They live in mistletoe, and are scared of peppermint." Malfoy just shook his head.

"Suppose I should be grateful to the nargles, then. If they saved me from another few days of lying there."

Harry grinned into his stew.

"And not me?" Malfoy threw a piece of bread at him.

Harry wasn't sure what to think of this Malfoy. He and Harry hadn't interacted much all year, apart from Harry returning Malfoy's wand, and even that had been brief. Malfoy had lain low so far, this year.

And now this boy who sat beside Harry wasn't acting at all like the old Draco Malfoy. He seemed vulnerable, what with all the defensiveness, and, now, almost playful. It was odd.

"Can I call you Draco?" Harry asked, quite out of the blue. Malfoy stared at him, incredulous.

"Why, Potter? Want to be friends, do you?"

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. "Only, you're not really acting like the old Malfoy, and you're not exactly my rival anymore, are you? So it seems okay."

Malfoy peered at him suspiciously for a moment, then shoved a piece of bread in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

"I suppose," he said, and held out his hand. "If I can call you Harry."

Harry grinned and took Draco's hand, then turned back to his stew. An odd warm feeling was bubbling in his chest, for some reason.

"I don't like my house," Draco said, after a few more minutes.

"What?"

"You asked why I'm not at home for the holidays. The manor… I hate it. It's like walking through a nightmare."

"Cause of Voldemort living there?" Draco flinched, and Harry regretted the words instantly. "Sorry."

"Yeah, because the Dark Lord lived there. It was terrible."

"Do you… want to talk about it?"

"No!" Draco snapped. "I'm just answering your question. My father's in Azkaban, my mother stays in her room, and the manor reeks of death and suffering. That's why I'm staying here for the holidays. I'm never going back to that place again."

Harry nodded. It sounded reasonable.

"Not many Slytherins came back for their eight year," Harry said.

"They weren't stupid enough to," Malfoy snorted, then chewed a bite of potato angrily. A light bulb went off in Harry's head.

"This isn't time you've been attacked, is it?" Draco didn't answer, which was confirmation enough.

"You should go to a professor," Harry said.

"No, I shouldn't. The people… they're angry at death eaters, and I was one. I deserve it."

"No, you don't!" Harry protested. "You didn't want to do any of that stuff, but Voldemort would have killed your family!" Draco shrugged.

"That doesn't matter to them."

"Who's them?"

"Drop it, Potter."

"Back to Potter, are we?" Harry frowned at the other boy.

"Drop it, Harry."

The warm feeling hadn't gone away.

The next evening saw Harry once again with Luna, who had been watching him closely since the day before.

"I don't like him, Luna!" Harry said, exasperated.

"Harry Potter, the frippits don't lie. I think you should tell him. It's Christmas time, after all."

Harry shook his head fondly at the girl.

"What does that have to do with anything, Luna?"

"Good things happen on Christmas. It's the erum's breeding season, you know, so you're supposed to be honest."

"There's nothing to be honest about, Luna!"

Luna stopped to consider where they were, and pulled Harry over to the window. The corridor was deserted except for them.

"Please, Harry?"

"I can't, Luna."

"Can't what, Harry?"

"Can tell Draco bloody Malfoy that I bloody fancy him! There, Luna, I said it! The erum can mate in peace, and I can go on living in denial."

Harry looked suspiciously at Luna, who was showing signs of simultaneous satisfaction and guilt. Harry froze.

"Oh, Luna, you didn't…"

He slowly turned around, to see a wide-eyed Draco Malfoy standing down the corridor.

Harry had half a second to process the utter, life ending dread that had settled somewhere around his stomach before he let out a mad laugh, turned, and bolted.

He spent two days hiding from Luna and Draco. In the library, in Mrytle's toilet, in the kitchens, and everywhere else that the other two wouldn't go. Gryffindor tower was out of the question, because Luna always knew the password, somehow.

Finally, Christmas morning, he thought himself safe enough to risk going to the great hall for breakfast.

He was not safe. He walked in, locked eyes with Draco, and fled.

"Potter! Potter, wait!"

Harry dashed around a corner, praying Draco would just give up.

"Potter, please! Harry!"

Crash!

Draco came around the corner, dashing after Harry, to see him lying under pieces of a suit of armor.

"Potter, what the bloody hell happened?" Harry sat up, pressing a hand to his head.

"You called me 'Harry' again." He looked up at Draco, who held out a hand to pull him up. Harry ignored it.

"Very astute Potter. You asked me to, didn't you? Do you need help up or what?" Harry frowned and grabbed the hand, a metal gauntlet falling to the floor.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, wishing he could run again. "If this is about earlier, I'm sorry-"

"No! Well, yes. Potter- Harry, it's…" Draco dragged a hand through his hair, messing it up. "Just, don't run away, will you? Here."

Draco reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a small box.

"All I wanted," Draco muttered, "Was to give you this. Err… Happy Christmas."

Harry took the present, a surreal feeling filling him.

"Is this some kind of prank?" he asked, suspicious.

"No! Look, no. It's just… it's not a prank."

Harry tugged off the gold ribbon to reveal a green box. Very Slytherin. He glanced up at Malfoy one more time, who looked nervous, for some reason, and opened the box.

It was a snitch.

Harry pulled it out of the box, holding it up to his face. Not a true snitch, just a model. Decorated in green and gold, like the box.

He looked at Draco questioningly.

"Ah, it's a snitch," he said unhelpfully, "Obviously. But it gives off a dreamless sleep mist at night. Um. It sprays small amounts of the potion into the air that you breathe in; not harmful at all. And not addictive like the potions."

Harry peered at the snitch closer. He could see small perforations along it, miniscule holes to give off the potion. Draco was still babbling.

"-because I heard you telling weasel- Weasley, I mean, about not being able to sleep without nightmares, and I thought you could use it, because it works for me, and-"

"I told Ron that months ago," Harry said, "How did you remember?"

Draco flushed crimson, the color contrasting sharply with his skin.

"Um."

Very inarticulate today, Harry observed, a warm feeling filling him.

"Thanks, Malfoy," he said, turning the snitch over in his hand.

"Draco!" Malfoy blurted, then looked ready to die. "I mean, that is, you wanted to call me Draco, didn't you?"

Harry grinned slightly, unable to help himself.

"Thank you, Draco. I… appreciate it. I haven't been sleeping much lately."

Draco jerked his head in a tense nod. His eyes darted around, as if looking for something else to say.

"I… do you… the other day…"

"Hey Draco?" Harry asked, "Are you all recovered from the other day?" A nod. "Do you want to walk around the lake with me?" Another nod, and an excited glimmer of grey eyes.

Is this honestly happening? Harry wondered, as he wandered around the Hogwarts Grounds with Draco Malfoy, talking about nothing and everything. Really, it was surreal.

You want surreal? I'll give you surreal, said the little voice of Fate in his head, dictating his movements. Beat this!

Harry watched in slow motion as his own hand, disobeying his frantic thoughts, moved toward Draco's, hanging by his side, and grasped it tentatively.

Draco's eyes shot up to meet Harry's, who was half certain a curse was coming his way. But no, quite the opposite. The Slytherin's fingers curled slowly around his own, and Harry's heart skipped a beat.

"I don't have a present for you," Harry said regretfully, as they followed the bank into a grove of trees.

"That's alright," Draco said, "I wasn't expecting one."

"But…" Harry bit his lip thoughtfully. "Oh, look!"

Someone had decorated one of the trees in the grove for Christmas, decked out in garlands and sparkling lights. Harry pulled Draco up to it, examining the thing. On the top was a model of a furry creature with wings and a crinkled single horn, waving a long tail behind it.

"Luna must've done this," he told Draco, smiling. "At the top, that's a crumple-horned snorkak."

Draco snorted in amusement and Harry dropped to his knees, peering under the tree.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked. "There's not going to be anything under there for you."

"Sometimes Luna just knows things," Harry said mysteriously, and spotted a small gold wrapped present under the tree. He pulled it out, smiling. The name on the tag said 'Draco'.

"Merry Christmas," Harry said, smiling. Draco took the parcel in incredulous delight and opened it.

He laughed aloud and hid it behind his back when Harry attempted to peek.

"No peeking. Close your eyes." Harry obediently shut his eyes, and opened them a few moments later.

Draco stood, smirking, holding a sprig of mistletoe over his head.

"Luna," Harry laughed, then told Draco, "It's probably infected with nargles."

"Who cares?" said Draco, moving closer. Harry shrugged and stepped forward, pressing his lips to Draco's happily, thanking Luna inside his head.