Christmas at Hogwarts
That week was particularly boring for Draco. His friends had gone home on Tuesday, leaving him all alone. Although he initially felt relieved not to have to endure Crabbe and Goyle following him like shadows, or Pansy with her shrill voice, soon that loneliness became strange. He had spent so much time in their company that, although he would never admit it out loud, he missed them a little.
The castle, usually full of activity, was now unusually empty. This gave him an unexpected freedom, one that he decided to take advantage of to explore every corner without worrying about being OOC. He discovered a couple of hidden passages behind paintings and tapestries, something that filled him with childish excitement, although his face remained unchanged as always.
In the library, the silence seemed to weigh more than ever. He finished all his pending homework and then browsed through some books that piqued his curiosity. The titles varied: from advanced charms to treatises on magical creatures. He had also taken to practicing enchantments in empty classrooms, a habit he found surprisingly amusing.
The weather outside was absolutely freezing, with snow covering every corner of the landscape like a pristine blanket. Although he knew the forest and gardens must look spectacular under the white blanket, he preferred the warmth and familiarity of the castle.
The day he finally managed to master the Summoning Charm, the system congratulated him with a notification:
[User has leveled up! +10 B points]
Draco looked at the pop-up window with a mix of satisfaction and annoyance.
"Hey, system, when will I get quests again?" he asked mentally, almost disdainfully.
[User will receive new quests as soon as the holidays are over. During this time, he can earn points by finding items, with his actions, and by completing plots and hidden events in the plot.]
Draco snorted. What a help. He closed the book with a thud and flipped through it again at random. A few chapters away was the Patronus Charm. It was a famous spell, both for its difficulty and its usefulness. However, what really interested him was the possibility of learning it before Potter or Granger could use the Time-Turner to get ahead of him.
He set the book down on a chair and began mimicking the movements described with his wand.
— Expecto Patronum — he said precisely. Nothing happened.
He scanned the section again, making sure to follow the instructions in the text to the letter. He tried again.
— Expecto Patronum!
Nothing, not a spark. Frustrated, he decided to turn to the system.
“System, give me information about the charm.”
[The Patronus Charm (Expecto Patronum) is one of the most famous and powerful defensive charms known in the wizarding world. It is an extremely complicated and extremely difficult spell to perform, which generates a partially tangible force of positive energy known as a Patronus or guardian spirit. In order to successfully create it, one must think of a memory that causes deep joy.]
Draco drummed his fingers against his wand as he reread the information in his mind. A happy memory, huh? He wondered if his memories from his previous life would be enough. He closed his eyes, recalled a particularly pleasant moment, and cast the spell again.
— Expecto Patronum!
This time, a small spark appeared at the tip of his wand before fading away. Determined, he practiced for another hour but managed nothing more than weak flickers.
— What the hell counts as a happy memory then? — he muttered to himself, exasperated.
He practiced a little more before giving up for the day and heading back to the common room, heading to the common room.
Of Slytherin, only he and a first-year boy remained, too shy to dare speak to him, and it wasn't like Draco was going to talk to him anyway. With nothing better to do, he went to his dorm. There he pulled out the notebook he'd bought in Diagon Alley and began writing about his day, as he had done for weeks now. The pages contained a meticulous record of his actions, his thoughts, and how they seemed to affect the plot he knew.
That night, as he wrote in his notebook under the warm light of his bedroom lamp, Draco felt a strange mix of emotions. He had spent a week immersed in his own thoughts and little adventures, away from the usual bustle of his friends. The solitude was both a relief and an inconvenience, but it had also given him the opportunity to explore and learn more about the things he was supposed to already know. He closed the notebook and let out a long sigh. Tomorrow would be Christmas, and he couldn't help but feel excited about his first Christmas at Hogwarts.
Draco woke up early that morning. For the first time since he had been alone, he felt something akin to excitement bubbling up inside him. It was Christmas! He couldn't help but feel a bit like a little kid, but thank Merlin, there was no one there to judge him.
He ran down from the dormitories into the great Slytherin common room. The flames in the fireplace crackled with cozy warmth, and the Christmas tree, majestic as ever, stood beside it. It was decorated with silver and green baubles, glinting with an understated elegance that could only be expected from Slytherin.
Under the tree were several packages wrapped in shiny paper. Without even hesitating, Draco reached for the ones with his name on them, piling them into his arms. He could barely contain himself until he reached his bedroom again, where he closed the door behind him with a thud.
He threw himself onto his bed, leaving the presents around him, and examined them carefully. Some were obvious: the impeccable wrappings with the Malfoy seal indicating they came from his mother, and a couple of smaller ones with his father's distinctive touch. There were also gifts from his friends, and he wasn't surprised to see a few letters from girls sending him chocolates, his ego inflated a little, that was of course due to Draco's beauty and status.
Draco took the largest present first, one wrapped in a silver bow, and tore the paper off with excitement. Inside was a black winter cloak with hand-embroidered silver details. There was a card inside:
"From your mother, with love. May this Christmas be as impeccable as you are, darling. P.S. Don't forget to wrap up warm before going out."
Draco smiled excitedly, it was obvious that Narcissa loves Draco a lot, he was really going to have a hard time once the course was over to keep up his character. He moved on to the next gift, this one was smaller, but the paper had the official Malfoy seal on it. Opening it, he found a book titled "Magical Politics in the Modern Age", accompanied by a short note from his father:
"I hope you remember that it's not just spells, but words and connections that build empires. Merry Christmas."
Draco hummed with interest, Lucius' words didn't seem that frivolous, plus the book would surely be useful to him while he adjusted to the magical world, it wouldn't hurt to know some magical laws.
He received another book from Professor Snape, his godfather, but it was a potions book, nothing surprising really, the note only had a “From your godfather, Merry Christmas, brat”
He found it really hilarious that he also bought a potions book for his godfather, although luckily not the same title,
Pansy's gift was wrapped in a deep red paper and contained a seemingly expensive perfume, Draco tried it on, the woody scent with citrus notes was to his liking, he read Pansy's note with some amusement.
“Dear Draco, I noticed that you haven't been applying perfume or anything lately, so I took matters into my own hands, I'm sure it's ideal for you. Love Pansy. PS. There was no other colored wrapping paper, I hope you don't mind Gryffindor red.”
Crabbe sent him a set of Exploding Cards and Goyle a box full of Honeydukes sweets, although he received several boxes of chocolates from random girls. He was very busy eating sweets and writing the respective responses to his parents and friends, asking if they had liked the presents.
He bought to Narcissa a pair of earrings, Lucius an eagle feather, Pansy a hair clip, Crabbe some gloves and Goyle a scarf, then he noticed that he had left an unopened gift wrapped in a simple brown paper, it was a small box, the box had no return address, with some caution he unwrapped it, inside it was full of brown papers, at the bottom of the box was a kind of green ring, he grabbed it and looked closely, it was a triangle with soft edges, he recognized it immediately if he was not mistaken that thing appeared in the movie Coraline and the secret door, that object did not seem to be from the world of Harry Potter either, although it was not as if he could have much of an opinion on it.
The system was suddenly activated, with an unexpected notification:
[Object found: Ring of the hidden eye. Unknown properties. [Do you want to analyze it?]
Draco laughed, the system should work on how it names objects, it seemed a bit cliché, to be honest, he mentally replied.
“Yes, analyze it.”
[Hidden Eye Ring: Crafted from green-hued jade. In the center, a perfectly rounded hole serves as a viewfinder. Looking through it, it reveals things that are hidden from the naked eye: secret doors, invisible runes, and even magical illusions.
The artifact emits a slight vibration when it approaches something hidden, acting as a compass for the mysterious. Its power is said to come from ancient druid magics that linked knowledge with perception. This item requires concentration to fully activate and is limited to those with moderate or higher magical sensitivity, otherwise it will just be simple jewelry.
It also has a residual magical connection that could trigger future events. I recommend keeping it.]
A unique artifact. Draco couldn’t help but smile, intrigued. It seemed that even at Christmas, the plot was offering him something interesting. He turned the piece between his fingers and looked through the ring, he didn't see anything in particular, although well it wasn't like he was going to find something really fascinating in the boys' bedrooms.
"Hey system, isn't this object from the movie Coraline and the secret door?" He asked, still turning the ring between his fingers, the system window didn't take long to appear.
[This object, although similar, is not the same and is from your current universe.]
It was a simple but convincing answer, it was like suggesting that if he found an oil lamp it would be the genie's lamp of wishes, the system disappeared without further explanation, at the bottom of the box there was also a note, written in neat calligraphy.
"To Draco Malfoy: Sometimes the right answer is hidden behind the obvious. Happy holidays."
Draco frowned, intrigued and a little suspicious. However, he folded the letter carefully and put it away with the ring. That note evidently meant more than it seemed, although he didn't know who had sent it, he had his suspicions, only one person throughout the saga gave anonymous gifts with strangely deep messages, Albus Dumbledore, the question was why? Never throughout the saga did he not show interest in Draco, not until the sixth or seventh book at least and it didn't seem like a sincere concern in any case, it didn't make sense for Dumbledore to give him something, unless he knew he wasn't the real Draco Malfoy,
Suddenly, the system issued another notification:
[Special Christmas Event Unlocked: Go to the Great Hall!
Do you want to participate?]
Draco arched an eyebrow and smiled to himself.
“Of course.”
After getting ready, Draco spent the whole morning leafing through the book his father sent him, at lunchtime he put on the cloak his mother sent him and finally left the common room for the Great Hall. The Great Hall was beautifully decorated for the occasion, although the tables of the four houses had been pushed to the sides leaving a single table in the center of the room, there were 12 place settings and at the table were already seated Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout and Flitwick, along with Filch, the janitor, who had taken off his usual brown jacket and was wearing an old, moldy tailcoat.
There were five other students, the first year Slytherin boy he had seen in the common room, a sour-faced fifth year Ravenclaw boy, two Hufflepuff boys who seemed to also be first years by the way they were talking or trying to talk to the Slytherin boy and of course… drum roll, obviously Harry Potter.
It was strange to see him alone, without the weasel and Granger, their eyes met, Potter looked him up and down and Draco returned his gaze with the same intensity.
— Happy Easter! — said Dumbledore when Draco approached the table. — As there are so few of us, it seemed absurd to use the tables in the houses. Go ahead and sit down. — he said in that affable tone, conveniently the only free place was next to Potter, he sighed and sat down, frowning slightly.
— Surprise rockets! — said Dumbledore excitedly, handing Snape the end of a large silver one. Snape reluctantly took it and pulled. There was a bang, the rocket shot off and left behind a large, pointed witch's hat with a stuffed vulture on the tip. Draco and Potter, remembering the boggart, snickered. Snape pursed his lips, gave Draco a serious look and the blond pulled himself together, Snape pushed the hat towards Dumbledore, who promptly exchanged his own for it.
— Well, now that we're all done, let's eat! — he advised everyone, smiling.
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Harry was genuinely surprised when he saw Malfoy enter the Great Hall, he had imagined that the blond would be in his fancy mansion or something, what had he been doing all week anyway? He wondered, although he might have actually known if he had thought to look the blond up on the Marauder's Map. He almost wanted to talk to the Slytherin, this week all alone in Gryffindor Tower was driving him crazy and he longed for a normal chat with someone, anyone even if it was Malfoy.
Hermione had gone home indignant after Ron insulted her cat for trying to eat his rat Scabbers, all the Weasleys had left because they were going to Romania to visit Charlie, Ron's older brother who worked with dragons and not to mention the other students, obviously they had all gone home as soon as they had the chance, Harry couldn't help but feel a little envious, which was why he found it so interesting that Draco spoiled Malfoy was in Hogwarts instead of with his parents in their elegant mansion.
As Harry helped himself to roast potatoes, the doors to the Great Hall swung open again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding towards them as if on wheels. For the occasion, she had donned a green sequined dress that accentuated her appearance as a giant dragonfly.
— Sybill, what a pleasant surprise! — said Dumbledore, rising to his feet.
— I have been consulting the crystal ball, Headmaster — said Professor Trelawney in her most distant voice. — And to my surprise, I have found myself abandoning my solitary lunch and joining you. Who am I to deny the ways of fate? I left the tower and came here in a hurry, but I beg your pardon for being late.
— Of course — said Dumbledore, blinking. — Let me bring you a chair...
And he waved his wand to send a chair flying through the air, which spun around a few times before landing loudly between Professors Snape and McGonagall. Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down. Her huge eyes had wandered around the table and she suddenly gave a soft cry.
— I dare not, Mr. Headmaster! If I sit down, there will be thirteen of us! Nothing brings worse luck! Never forget that when thirteen eat together, the first to get up is the first to die!
— We'll take the risk, Sybill — said Professor McGonagall impatiently. — Please sit down. The turkey is getting cold.
Professor Trelawney glared at her, obviously noticing Professor McGonagall's skeptical tone. She glanced around and said:
— But where is my dear Professor Lupin?
— I'm afraid he's had a relapse — said Dumbledore, urging everyone to help themselves. — It's a shame it happened on Christmas Day.
— But surely you already knew that, Sybill. — Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a cold look.
— Of course I knew that, Minerva— she said quietly. — But I don’t want to boast that I know everything. I often act as if I don’t have the Inner Eye, so as not to unnerve others.
— That explains a lot— Professor McGonagall replied.
Professor Trelawney raised her voice.
— If you’re interested in knowing, I see that Professor Lupin will be leaving us soon. He himself seems to understand that his time is short. When I offered to see his fate in the crystal ball, he fled.
— I imagine so.
— I doubt— Dumbledore observed, his voice cheerful but strong, ending the conversation between Professors McGonagall and Trelawney. — that Professor Lupin is in any imminent danger. Severus, have you made the potion for him again?
— Yes, Headmaster — said Snape.
— Good — said Dumbledore. — Then he’ll be up and wandering around any minute now. Derek, have you tried the sausages? They’re great.
The first-year boy blushed brightly because Dumbledore had addressed him directly, and he took the bowl of sausages with shaking hands.
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Draco felt Potter occasionally turn to look at him as if he was afraid of he was going to attack everyone in the Great Hall, he was tempted to give him some scathing comment, but it wouldn't be nice with everyone, especially Dumbledore, to see him. The banquet was fairly quiet, once Draco decided he had eaten and socialized enough he stood up from the table, Professor Trelawny who had been behaving normally until now gave a small cry.
— Oh my dears! Who was the first to get up? — she asked with a mixture of interest and concern, it was then that she realized Potter had also gotten up, they looked at each other for a moment.
— It's not like there's much difference, unless some madman is outside waiting to kill whoever gets out first — Professor McGonagall replied coldly.
Draco couldn't help but laugh a little, Professor Trelawny clearly displeased, snorted and started talking about how superstitions shouldn't be taken lightly, honestly Draco didn't want to hear any of that and walked out of the Great Hall into the hallway where thankfully there was no one waiting to kill them. Potter followed him for a while, Draco didn't take it personally until Potter instead of going up the stairs to Gryffindor tower followed him down the hallway, Draco turned around with a frown.
—Okay enough, now why are you following me? —He faced him, Potter stood still in front of him. — I'm not planning an attack to the school, stay calm, Potter.
[+10 B points keep it up user]
Potter had thought he was being subtle until that moment, he didn't really know why he was following Malfoy, maybe he had a slight suspicion that he was up to something.
—Well, you can't blame me, what are you doing in the castle anyway? — he asked in an arrogant tone, as if he hadn't been the one who followed Malfoy in the first place.
—Spend the holidays, can't I spend the holidays at Hogwarts? —he replied in a mocking tone. —Or only you and your gang can, although now that I think about it, where are Granger and the weasel?
Potter thought about it for a moment, there were definitely no flaws in Draco's reasoning, but that didn't eliminate his curiosity.
—They went home at the beginning of the holidays. —he answered indifferently, then his gaze softened. —and your gang?
—Same —answered Draco, they remained silent for a while.
Draco had the impression that Potter looked like a lost puppy, the thought amused him a little, as he examined the black-haired boy,
—Do you want to go out flying on a broomstick? —Potter suddenly said.
Draco's eyes widened in surprise, as if Potter had just suggested something as absurd as inviting a dementor to tea. His face, usually carefully composed into a mask of superiority and disdain, was now disarmed, displaying a mixture of disbelief and confusion that was rarely seen on him. He had expected anything from Potter, some self-righteous rebuke or a veiled threat to "stay away," but certainly not this.
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Harry, for his part, also seemed stunned by his own words. What on earth was he thinking? The idea had sprung from his mind before he could stop it, as if it had slipped out without his permission. Among the gifts he had received that morning, the new Firebolt shone with irresistible allure. He still remembered the thrill he felt when he unwrapped the package: the flawless finish of the wood, the elegant engraving on the handle, and that implicit promise of speed and freedom. He had gone out into the hall thinking of trying it out, taking advantage of the fact that the snow had stopped for a moment, but he had never considered that Malfoy would be part of the plan.
Malfoy stared at him, as if trying to understand if Harry was serious or if this was some strange Christmas joke.
— Did you hit your head, Potter? — he finally asked, his tone tinged with disbelief as he arched an eyebrow. — Going out to fly on a broomstick?
The comment fell like a stone between the two, but Harry, offended by the disdainful tone, did not let it intimidate him. He frowned, crossing his arms with a determined expression.
— Well, or do you have something better to do? — he replied, trying to keep his voice firm and calm, although inside he was beginning to question his own sanity.
The silence between them stretched for a few seconds, barely broken by the echo of distant footsteps from some professor crossing the hall. The evening light streaming through the tall windows cast long shadows on the stone floor, and for a moment, the chill in the air seemed to become even more present.
Harry ran a hand through his messy hair, looking Malfoy straight in the eyes, as if by doing so he could prove to him that his proposal was genuine.
— How about a truce? — he added after a pause, his tone lower, almost cautious.
The words hung in the air, provoking an unexpected reaction from Malfoy. The blond tilted his head slightly, as if he were evaluating the offer. His grey eyes, normally filled with mockery or coldness, now sparkled with a mixture of curiosity and distrust.
— A truce? — Malfoy repeated slowly, as if tasting the words.
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Potter nodded; his gaze still fixed on Draco’s face. There was something surprisingly vulnerable in his expression, as if the Gryffindor wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, but also unwilling to back down.
Draco narrowed his eyes, as if trying to read Potter’s hidden intentions. The concept of a truce was, to say the least, disconcerting. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but be tempted by the idea. After all, what was a truce but an excuse to let one’s guard down, even for a day? And didn’t he deserve some fun after weeks of enduring the monotony of a nearly empty Hogwarts?
A truce? Draco was somewhere between curious and scared.
“System! What the hell is that?! You can’t say it’s not OOC.”
[Mr. User, there are no anomalies with the character Harry Potter]
“Now that is unexpected, Potter,” he finally said, flashing a smile that was more defiant than friendly. “But fine, surprise me.” What kind of truce do you have in mind?
"Yes, a truce, today is Christmas," Potter said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Then we can act as usual."
"You suggest being friends for today?" he asked with some mockery. "Really?"
[+ 5 B points]
[User has reached a total of 2000 B points]
[Do you want to unlock the OOC feature?]
[Accept] [Reject]
Draco had been waiting for this for months, he could finally be OOC without risking having points taken away, accepting Potter's proposal was certainly OOC, but not accepting would seal his fate as a bully and villain. He looked at the Accept option until it finally lit up.
[Congratulations! You have unlocked the OOC features, you will no longer be deducted points for OOC]
— Although — Draco continued talking, Potter looked at him curiously. — You're right, I have nothing better to do, so why not?
Draco held out his hand to Potter, the raven-haired boy looked at him in surprise and caution.
— What's wrong, scared, Potter? — he said mockingly. Harry shook his hand.
— Not a bit — the green-eyed boy replied with a defiant look.
[Excellent sir user +10 B points for character affinity]
[+40 protagonist satisfaction points]
[Hidden event: Christmas truce
Complete the event to get points and other rewards]
Draco smirked as he withdrew his hand. That was genuine, interacting with Potter had just given him quite a few points.
— Very well, Potter. See you in the lobby field in ten minutes. Don't make me wait.
Without giving him time to respond, he turned on his heels and walked towards the dungeons to look for his broom. As he did so, he couldn't help but reflect on the unusual situation. “What the hell is Potter thinking? A truce? This is… interesting.” An almost imperceptible smile spread across his face as he thought of how this could change Draco's fate.
Snow covered the ground, but the clouds had dissipated and a faint sunbathed the Hogwarts grounds. Draco couldn't deny that he felt a mix of excitement and curiosity at Potter's unexpected proposal.
As a fan of the book and obviously of Harry it was a dream it was the same feeling of unlocking a premium image in a graphic novel, on the other hand thinking back more as Draco Malfoy, it was undoubtedly strange.
The cold air hit their faces as they left the castle. Draco pulled out his broom, a Nimbus 2001 that he kept shiny and well maintained. When he saw Potter pull his out, Draco raised an eyebrow.
— A Firebolt, huh? Who gave it to you? Don't tell me Weasley, because I don't think even selling all his stuff would make him enough money. —The comment was scathing, Draco already knew who had sent it to him, Sirius Black, Potter's godfather, but the black haired didn't know that detail, so it was best to feign madness.
[+10 B points for affinity with the character]
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Harry pressed his lips together, holding back the urge to retort. He had decided to give this "truce" a chance, though he was already starting to regret it.
— I have no idea. It came without a return address — he answered honestly as he mounted his broom.
Malfoy looked surprised, though he tried to hide it. Harry watched him out of the corner of his eye, trying to figure out what was going through the blond's mind. Was he really willing to keep the truce or was he planning some trick? Despite his doubts, Harry decided to go with the flow.
— What if it's bewitched or something? — Malfoy asked, raising an eyebrow.
Harry found it incredibly familiar, since that was what Hermione had written to him as soon as he told her about the broom. The blond rose with an ease that Harry reluctantly recognized as impressive.
— Let it be known that if something happens to you it wasn't my fault, eh?
Harry laughed at the blond's comment and followed him into the sky, letting the wind further ruffle his dark hair.
—You don't need to worry about me, I'm almost flattered. —Harry said pretending to faint, Malfoy rolled his eyes.
— I'm not worried about you, I'm worried about my reputation Potter —he replied mockingly. —And what are we going to do or are we just here to talk?
—I thought of a race, or do you think you don't have a chance against my Firebolt?
The challenge made Draco smile haughty.
—Don't sell myself short, Potter. You may have the best broom, but you still need skill to beat me.
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Draco gripped his Nimbus firmly, fingers wrapped around the polished wood as he felt the familiarity of his broom. He looked up at Potter, who hovered a few feet away, leaning slightly forward on his new Firebolt. Despite the tensions that always seemed to surround them, Draco couldn’t deny that there was something electrifying about this unexpected contest. This wasn’t a Quidditch match, there was no Golden Snitch fluttering between them, no referees, no rules. It was just the two of them, speed and skill, in a duel that seemed more personal than any other matchup on the pitch.
From above, the cold air blew hard, causing Draco’s silver-green scarf to billow behind him. He took a deep breath and raised his voice, projecting it with a hint of defiance:
— Fine, Potter, two laps of the Quidditch pitch, and the first to cross the scoring ring wins. — He pointed at the highest hoop, a clear target against the grey sky.
Potter, his expression a mix of excitement and defiance, nodded. A curved smile spread across his face, unlike his usual cocky attitude, and Draco had to admit to himself that this version of Potter was… more bearable. More exciting.
— On the count of three — Draco announced, his tone confident, as if he were giving instructions at a Slytherin training session.
They both began to count in unison, their voices intertwining and echoing in the freezing air, amplified by the vastness of the empty field.
— One… two… three!
The instant the last word left their mouths, both brooms shot forward like projectiles. Draco felt the powerful acceleration of his Nimbus beneath him, a dull roar in the wind that cut across his face and burned his cheeks. The treetops and stadium stands became a blur, but there was no time to admire the scenery.
Potter was just a few feet ahead, his Firebolt showing all its superiority in pure speed. Draco, however, did not let that discourage him. He trusted his technique, the months of exhaustive training he had spent perfecting every turn and every tilt.
He adjusted his stance, leaning even further on his broom, reducing the resistance of the wind. His grey eyes were focused like a hawk on its prey. With calculated movements, he chose the straightest line, cutting through the air with surgical precision, while the distance between them remained taut, like a rope about to snap.
The wind roared around him, mixed with the rhythmic thump of his heart in his ears. He could hear the faint hum of the Firebolt as Potter maneuvered with agility, but Draco did not give an inch. The competition was fierce, and though he wouldn't admit it out loud, there was something exhilarating about facing Potter like this, away from the crowds and expectations, with only instinct as a guide.
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Harry couldn't believe what he was seeing: Malfoy was catching up to him. The Firebolt, the fastest broom he had ever ridden, didn't seem to be enough to outrun the blond. No matter how Harry leaned forward, almost crushing himself against the handle to gain speed, Malfoy was there, keeping up with him with a skill Harry couldn't remember ever seeing before. It wasn't just speed; it was the almost instinctive precision with which Malfoy anticipated every curve of the course and the impeccable way he took advantage of every opportunity to close the gap between them.
The final stretch was in sight: the highest hoop on the course, silhouetted against the grey sky and snowflakes that were beginning to fall with greater intensity. Harry gritted his teeth and leaned even further, forcing his broom to squeeze out every last vestige of speed. The wind whipped at his face, and his heartbeat was a relentless drum that propelled him forward.
At his side, Malfoy was still glued to him, his posture impeccable and his expression fixed on the target. There was something about the blond's intensity that Harry couldn't ignore, a mix of focus and defiance that made him seem unstoppable. It was as if, for a moment, Malfoy was enjoying the sheer thrill of competing as much as he was, without the usual barriers of sarcasm or rivalry.
The hoop was fast approaching, and they both launched themselves at it in one last burst of speed. Harry reached out a hand to touch it just as Malfoy did the same. The clash was so synchronized that the sound of both their palms echoed in unison.
They both stopped their brooms almost immediately, floating in the air as they caught their breath. The silence between them was broken by Harry's voice, cracked with effort:
"A tie." He said it in disbelief, looking at Malfoy as if trying to understand how it had happened. There was something strange in his gaze, a mixture of respect and bewilderment that he couldn't hide.
Malfoy, still breathing heavily, raised an eyebrow with a slightly haughty smile, but it seemed less sharp than usual.
"Acceptable to you, I suppose." There was a spark of pride in his eyes, although it was also clear that he himself was impressed by the result.
For a moment, they both looked at each other without the usual walls that separated them. And then, as if the situation was so absurd that they couldn't help it, they shared a brief but genuine laugh. Suspended in the air, surrounded by the cold and snowy landscape of Hogwarts, laughter seemed like an unexpected bridge between them.
Harry couldn't help but think how strange this moment was: Malfoy, his eternal rival, was proving to be something more than arrogance and rivalry. There was skill, passion and, even if it was barely perceptible, a humanity that Harry hadn't noticed before.
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Draco enjoyed the moment more than he would have admitted out loud. It was a peculiar turn of events, something completely unexpected, but not unpleasant. The usual tensions between him and Potter seemed to have momentarily dissipated, leaving in its place a lighter, almost... friendly interaction? Draco shook that thought from his mind quickly. However, the system decided to cut in at the most inopportune moment, as always.
[+15 B points for increasing the level of complexity of the Draco Malfoy character]
Draco mentally rolled his eyes at the notification, though he couldn't help but feel a slight satisfaction. The system's words seemed like some sort of acknowledgement, and though he would never admit it, he liked the idea of being more than just "Slytherin's spoiled brat" or "Potter's eternal enemy." Maybe, he thought, the strange truce proposed by Potter wasn't so bad after all.
— Not bad, Potter. For a Gryffindor. — Draco broke the silence with a barely perceptible smile, his tone heavy with irony.
— Thank you, Malfoy. For a Slytherin, you’re no slouch — Potter replied with a smile that, to Draco’s surprise, didn’t seem sarcastic.
Draco frowned, considering Potter’s words for a moment. However, a smirk curved his lips as he chuckled softly.
— And that’s supposed to be a compliment? — he asked with a hint of amusement as they both began to descend towards the ground, brooms tilting gracefully.
Draco’s feet touched the frost-covered grass, and he stepped off his Nimbus with a fluidity. Potter, though less graceful, landed safely beside him. Draco raised an eyebrow as he studied the Gryffindor.
— I must admit, it was fun — he finally said, a spark of honesty peeking into his tone. Then, with a familiar flash of mockery, he added — Also, we’ve verified that your new broom is not enchanted, Potter.
Potter let out a short laugh, and though he didn’t respond immediately, Draco noticed the relaxation in his posture. When he finally spoke, his tone was casual, almost friendly.
— That’s a relief — Potter murmured before falling silent for a few seconds. Draco looked at him curiously, wondering what was going through his mind. Finally, Potter looked up, a hint of uncertainty flashing in his eyes. — How about, for the duration of our Christmas truce, we call each other by our first names?
The proposal took Draco by surprise, but he didn’t let that emotion show on his face. Instead, he looked at him with a mixture of amusement and skepticism.
— Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive? — he mocked, tilting his head slightly as a mocking glint crossed his grey eyes. Potter shrugged, as if trying to make light of the matter.
— Well, it’s weird that you call me by my last name if we’re not actually fighting.
Draco narrowed his eyes, assessing the Gryffindor carefully. There was nothing malicious in his tone, nothing that indicated Potter was trying to set him up or taunt him. It was odd, but not unpleasant. Finally, he sighed, feigning a resignation he didn’t quite feel.
— It’s fine, just as long as the truce lasts, Harry.
Draco said the name in a light, almost experimental tone, watching Potter’s reaction with curiosity. Potter smiled genuinely, and although Draco didn’t show it, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, the Christmas truce wouldn’t be as terrible as he had imagined.
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Harry let Malfoy's words echo in his mind for a moment. He had called him by his name. Although, thinking about it, it wasn't the first time. At the Quidditch match, when the blond had flown to save him from that fall, he had also called him that. That memory, so clear and strange, awakened in Harry a slight satisfaction that he didn't know how to interpret. It wasn't as if they were friends, but there was something... different.
— That's better, Draco. — The words came out more naturally than Harry expected, as if calling him that was something he should always have done.
They both walked in silence for a moment, the brooms resting on their shoulders as the cold winter air hit their cheeks. The snow was beginning to fall, small flakes that melted when they touched their skin. Harry, with a mixture of curiosity and a pinch of boldness, decided to take advantage of that truce to inquire about things that had been on his mind for a long time.
— Why is it that you don’t act like a jerk, mocking me in the corridors, ever since the Quidditch match? — he asked casually, as if he were talking about the weather, though he didn’t take his eyes off Malfoy.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow, his expression full of his typical arrogance, but there was no venom in his response.
— I got the impression that your own house is bothering you enough about the Dementors. Although, if you want, I can go back to harassing you in the corridors. What do you say? — he added with a mocking smile that made Harry roll his eyes.
The comment, although scathing, didn’t carry the weight of the cruel jokes from before. Harry let out a soft sigh, remembering what happened after that match. The Gryffindors, despite their loyalty, had been insensitive about his fainting in front of the Dementors, making comments that had hurt him more than he wanted to admit. And then there was Malfoy, who, against all odds, had tried to save him.
Harry huddled a little deeper into his coat as the snow began to pile up on his shoulders. He looked back at Malfoy, who was walking beside him with a calm that seemed almost out of place. The blond seemed indifferent to the cold, but his profile showed something else, something Harry couldn't quite figure out.
— Well, I have another question for you. — Harry broke the silence with a more serious tone. — Why did you save me?
Malfoy didn't stop, but he turned his head slightly to look at Harry, his expression hard to read.
— If I hadn't, the rest of the students probably would have accused me of knocking you off your broom. — His tone was casual, almost as if he were talking about an insignificant detail, but Harry didn't quite buy it.
— Plus, we were pretty high up— Malfoy added, shrugging. — It would have been quite a blow." Harry frowned, not entirely convinced by the explanation. The answer sounded matter of fact, yes, but also devoid of any emotion. It was unexpected, even for someone like Malfoy, and it only fueled his curiosity.
Malfoy, noticing Harry's expression, let out a sly laugh.
— Besides — he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes — you owe me a favor now."
Harry snorted, rolling his eyes in exaggeration.
— How Slytherin of you. Always taking advantage of everything.
— How Gryffindor of you, going by stereotypes. — Malfoy replied in an almost carefree tone, though his smile was sharp. — It's just taking advantage of opportunities.
Harry chuckled softly, surprised at how easy it was to keep this conversation going without the constant tension that usually surrounded them. Malfoy was… surprisingly nice when he wasn't spouting venomous comments or mocking his friends. There was something about his attitude that was intriguing, though Harry didn't know how to put it.
As they continued walking towards the castle, the snow crunched beneath their feet, and the cold air filled the silences between their words. Harry couldn't help but think of what it would have been like if he had accepted Malfoy's outstretched hand that time in his first year. What would have changed? Would they have arrived at this very moment, but under different circumstances?
That strange but fascinating thought kept turning in his mind as the enormous silhouette of Hogwarts castle appeared through the winter mist.
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Draco quickly hid any hint of surprise as he read the glowing notification floating in front of his eyes.
[+100 points of satisfaction with the protagonist].
He didn't know exactly what that increase meant, but he had only seen it once before, after the Quidditch match incident. He turned his gaze to Potter, who seemed pleased. The thought momentarily disconcerted him: what could he have done to accumulate that amount of points? He had no idea, but he wasn't going to complain either.
As they walked back to the castle, snow began to accumulate on their coats and hair. Draco, although he wouldn't admit it out loud, found the scene strangely peaceful, almost pleasant. As they entered the hall, the change in temperature was immediate; the heat from the torches on the walls caressed their cold skin. Draco stopped to brush the snow off his clothes with graceful movements, while stealing a glance at Potter.
The Gryffindor ran a hand through his hair, further ruffling it—if that was even possible—in an attempt to rid it of the snowflakes. Draco couldn't help but notice the details: how Potter's face was still slightly red from the cold, and how small, almost imperceptible freckles peeked out on his nose and cheeks. It was a detail he'd never noticed before. For a second longer than he'd like to admit, he stared at him, until Potter turned his head and their gazes met. Draco, uncomfortable, immediately looked away and pretended to be busy with the hem of his robes.
Neither of them spoke for the rest of the walk through the empty, quiet corridors, only the echo of their footsteps and the distant crackling of torches accompanied them. Finally, they reached the landing of the stairs, the point where their paths diverged: Potter to Gryffindor Tower and Draco to the dungeons and the Slytherin common room.
Draco paused for a moment, his hand resting on the cold stone railing.
— It was fun — he said, his tone neutral, though not lacking in sincerity.
Potter turned to him, his expression a mix of surprise and something resembling a smile.
— Yeah, it wasn’t bad. — He paused, then added with a gesture that seemed almost shy. — Merry Christmas, Draco.
Draco raised an eyebrow, surprised by the unexpected greeting. A slight smile formed on his lips, though, before he replied.
— Merry Christmas, Harry.
There was a moment of silence, one that Draco felt he needed to fill before the moment became awkward.
— Shall we play exploding cards tomorrow?
Potter looked at him in genuine surprise, but his expression quickly changed to a wide grin. Draco noticed that, for some reason, he found the gesture less irritating than usual.
— Sounds good to me. I’ll see you here tomorrow.
— See you tomorrow, Potter. —Draco waved a hand in farewell before turning with his usual haughty bearing and beginning to descend the stairs towards the dungeons.
As he walked away, a familiar glow appeared in his field of vision. The system was back, this time with a more elaborate message:
[Congratulations, Mr. User! You have completed the first part of the hidden event. Keep up the good work! (^▽^)]
Draco rolled his eyes at the overly cheerful message, but couldn't help but feel a slight satisfaction. Although he didn't fully understand it, something told him that this was just the beginning.
And with that thought, he continued on his way, the echo of his footsteps fading into the depths of the castle, while the warm glow of the torches illuminated the walls around him. Outside, the snow continued to fall silently, Draco was left with a joyful feeling, it had been a rather special Christmas.