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Harry looked out the window of the dormitory. He loved how he could see over the grounds of Hogwarts. Especially during Christmas break when most of the students were gone and nobody was here to disturb the white world. The lake was almost completely frozen, the grass around it one big white landscape. Even the forbidden forest in the distance didn’t look as scary as normal with the white snow on the trees. And even the blond boy walking over the path in the distance didn’t feel out of place. Even though it was weird that Malfoy had stayed at the castle this year. He always went home for Christmas. Harry wondered what had changed.
For a while Harry followed Malfoy with his eyes, watch as he strolled around the lake, his head bent down, his arms around his waist. Harry watched as Malfoy sat down in the snow, his face hidden on his knees, his hair falling forward. And when had Malfoy stopped styling his hair before leaving the dormitory? Harry doesn’t think he’d ever seen it not greased back with to much gel. Harry shakes his head and turns back to the potions book in front of him. He has another full week to finish his essay, but he has no idea what the effects of a wrongly brewed healing potion will be.
Harry looks up again, looks at Malfoy throwing rocks onto the frozen surface of the lake. Malfoy is good at potions. He might be able to help Harry. Well, he might if they had been friends. If they didn’t hate each other and did everything they could to make each other’s life more difficult. Maybe Harry should have taken up Ron’s invite to his house, one of his brothers would have been able to help Harry. Or maybe Sirius could have been more like a real father figure and made sure he could get time off during Harry’s Christmas break. But no, work always comes first. And Harry can’t really blame him, of course it’s more fun to be chasing criminals instead of taking care of the boy that was left in your care after your best friend died.
The picture next to Harry’s bed is a stark reminder of what Harry lost. His parents smile at him and dance around in the picture. Harry struggles to remember them from time to time. He had been only six when they had died. Everyone said they were the braves to take on Voldemort. Harry just wishes they had let someone else take care of that madman. Because then he would still have a loving home with parents that love him. Instead of the cold place he goes to every summer break, with a man that hides away in his job to pretend he isn’t broken inside.
And it’s not like Sirius doesn’t try. It’s just that the older Harry gets, the more he starts to look like his dad, the more Sirius tries to distance himself from Harry. So for the last three years, Harry hasn’t even bothered suggesting going home during Christmas break. He just stays at the castle and enjoys the quietness of it all.
After another try in making something of his potions essay, Harry gives up and makes his way down to the Great Hall. Dinner should be served soon. When he’s almost down the last stair he sees Malfoy walk into the Entrance Hall. His face is mostly hidden by his long hairs that fall in front of it, but they don’t hide the redness of his eyes or the lost look Malfoy gives before turning towards the Slytherin dungeon.
“Are you okay?” Harry asks before Malfoy disappears out of sight.
Malfoy stops and turns halfway around. “What’s it to you?” he spits. “Thought you would be happy to see that I’m no longer welcome at my own home.”
Harry walks passed the door to the great hall and stops at the top of the stairs to the dungeon. “You’re not welcome at your own home? You fell in love with a half-blood witch to piss of your father?”
“If only it was that simple,” Malfoy says before he turns around again. Harry watches as Malfoy walks away from him. Malfoy doesn’t hold himself like usual. He doesn’t walk with his head held high and his shoulders straight. No, he turns in on himself, looks like he’s making himself as small as possible. Harry hurries down the stairs to follow him. Takes two steps at a time. He catches up with Malfoy when he’s just about to turn the corner. Harry grabs hold of Malfoy’s arm. When Malfoy turns to look at Harry’s hand on his arm, Harry sees the tears on Malfoy’s cheeks.
“Fuck, Malfoy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s all your stupid fault,” Malfoy whispers.
“What did I do?” Harry asks.
Malfoy lets out a short laugh. “What did you do? What in bloody Merlin didn’t you do!? It’s always you, perfects stupid you. I hate you, I bloody hate you!” Malfoy screams before he raises his free hand and punches Harry in his face. Harry lets go of Malfoy’s arm and shoves him against the wall.
“I was just trying to be nice, Malfoy. Fuck, don’t take it out on me because you had a stupid fight with your father. Just be glad he’s still alive.”
Harry turns and starts to walk away. He’ll have to go to the infirmary and have Madam Pomfrey fix it for him. Only the sobs coming from Malfoy stop him. He takes a deep breath and turns to look at the other boy. Malfoy has slid down the wall and holds his hand close to his chest. His body shakes from his cries and Harry knows he can’t leave him like that. He walks back over to Malfoy and sits down on the floor next to him.
“You wanna tell me why you’re so upset and angry?” he asks.
Malfoy shakes his head. “You’ll think it’s stupid.”
“Try me.”
Malfoy looks at the floor, tears still fall from his eyes. “My father disowned me.”
“So what, you won’t get a big payday when he dies. You still have your mothers inheritance, don’t you?”
“It’s not about the money, Potter. You off all people should understand that.”
“So you’re really not welcome at home anymore?”
“No, I’m not. I’m never to show my face again.”
Harry looks at Malfoy. “What did you do to piss him off that badly?”
Draco lets out another laugh. “You really have to ask? I thought you knew.”
“Haven’t you noticed I’m not the brightest student,” Harry says while shoving his shoulder against Malfoy’s.
Malfoy turns he face towards Harry. “No, you’re not. But still, you must know. It’s not like it’s a big secret. I just never told father.”
“You never told your father what?”
“That I’m gay, Potter. I’m bloody bent.”
“Oh,” is all Harry can say. “But why would you dad disown you for that?”
“We are not all getting raised by a gay guardian, Potter. And I’m supposed to continue the bloodline, marry some nice Pure-Blood girl and have tons of children. Kind of hard to do when you can’t get it up.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry says. His nose is really starting to hurt now that the blood is drying. “You wanna come up to the infirmary with me? My nose is killing me and I guess your hand isn’t doing all that great since you haven’t let it go since I sat down.”
Malfoy agrees and together they walk the stairs in silence. Madam Pomfrey takes one look at them and orders them both to sit on a bed. She points her wand at Harry and his nose is fixed in a heartbeat. Malfoy’s hand talks a little longer. It seems he opened it up on Harry’s glasses and Madam Pomfrey needs to give him some stitches. Once they’re done they make their way to the Great Hall to grab some food. Without thinking about it, Harry sits down next to Malfoy at the Slytherin table.
“If you need a place to stay during summer break, let me know. Grimmauld Place has plenty of rooms.”
“Like Uncle Sirius wants me in his home. No, I’ve written to Aunt Andromeda, she said I was more than welcome.”
Harry nods and finishes his food. “Have you done the potions essay yet?”
Malfoy shakes his head. “No, you need any help?”
“Yeah, want to meet up tomorrow morning in the library, do our homework together so we can enjoy the rest of Christmas break?”
Malfoy smiles at Harry. “Yeah, I would like that,” he agrees. Harry leaves the table and makes his way back to his own dormitory. A smile is stuck to his face all the way there. Maybe he won’t be lonely this Christmas after all.