Title: Ten Points for Gryffindor
Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or settings contained within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.
Pairings: Harry/Draco
Warnings: Contains mature language and sexual content
Rating: M
Summary: It's Christmas and Harry is growing antlers, but no one knows why. Perhaps Draco Malfoy can apply his expertise as a Healer and figure out how to remove them.
Author's Note: Merry Christmas, Drarry shippers! Here's a holiday-themed story that popped into my head last week after seeing a production still from Daniel Radcliffe's latest movie titled "Horns.". My take on horned-Harry is sweet, sappy, fluffy, and it might make you go squee. Enjoy!

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Ronald Weasley narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together in a tight line of concentration. He stepped one foot back to brace himself and raised his wand with steady confidence. He stared hard at his best friend of nearly fifteen years and recited the incantation in his mind one more time, just to be sure he had it right.

"Ready, mate?"

"Just do it."

Ron took a breath, closed his eyes for a brief moment to ready himself, then swished and lashed out with a rehearsed flourish. "Depilatorus!" he shouted.

A bright flash exploded from the tip of his wand and bathed Harry in searing white light. They both belatedly blocked their eyes with their hands as the light faded, then peeked out with nervous expectation. Harry raised his hands to his head and flinched at the sensation of fingertips on smooth skin.

"Ron!" he gasped. "What did you do?"

"Oh no," Ron gulped. "Listen, it will grow back, I promise."

Harry whirled around and gawked at himself in the hallway mirror. His scalp was as smooth as an egg, his eyebrows were absent, and even his eyelashes were now gone. He was completely hairless. Worse, the two velvety bumps that bulged from his skull just above his temples were still there, totally untouched by the spell.

"You realize," he squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to scream, "this isn't exactly an improvement."

"Sorry, Harry," Ron hung his head in shame.

Harry slumped to his bedroom and flopped down on his bed. This was shaping up to be a bad Christmas, he thought. Ron was right, his hair would return, and in the meantime he could wear a hat to cover up the mistake. The horns, on the other hand, well, they were still growing and pretty soon nothing would be able to cover them up. And that was worse than baldness.