4 in the morning, Christmas Eve. Harry Potter is tired but cannot sleep no matter how hard he tries. He's just got a lot on his mind, too many distractions bothering him: school, Quidditch, Voldemort, girls, and well, girls. He has not slept in a long time. Not since Sirius was taken last summer. Things have been hard since then. Harry has thought of nothing but wanting revenge for the injustice.
But Harry cannot lie down for another moment. Harry gets up, takes his Invisibility Cloak, and leaves. He will find something to do or (hopefully) someone to do. Harry leaves the Gryffindor common room and roams the school. He heads for the North Tower. Things have not been easy for him - Everyone thinking he is supposed to be Mr. Hero and save the world. Harry thinks of jumping from the North Tower a few times.
He reaches the top and looks out below him at the grounds and just stands there peacefully. And then he hears someone coming. He looks backs, still under the cloak and sees the least likely person. It is Draco Malfoy all alone. Harry wonders what he is doing up here.
Malfoy walks right towards Harry, and Harry moves out of the way. But Draco does not stop there. He climbs onto the banister and throws his hands out. Harry is shocked by this. And then he understands. Draco Malfoy is going to try to kill himself. And he jumps.
Harry dives in time and pulls Malfoy back onto the landing. Malfoy screams, not knowing what made him pull back. Malfoy shudders and tries to run off. Harry cannot let this happen. Malfoy will attempt suicide again. Harry feels responsible.
"Malfoy, wait!" Harry calls firmly, throwing off his cloak. "Don't go anywhere."
Malfoy looks back shocked. Then he glares evilly. "POTTER, you pulled me back — WHY? Always playing the stupid hero will be the end of you, Potter, I swear it! You and your friends want me dead, anyhow. Why the fuck did you pull me back, Potter?" Malfoy demands.
"I don't want you dead. I don't hate you that much, Malfoy. I couldn't of let you just jump," Harry says to him. This is all true.
"Mind your own bloody business, Potter. If I want to jump, I can!" Draco says indignantly.
"Then go do it!" Harry says in a provocative manner. Draco does not move, as predicted. "Why were you trying to kill yourself, Malfoy?"
"And why would I tell you that?" retorts Malfoy. "I'm leaving."
And Draco leaves, huffing as he stalks.
Draco does not know why he just left like that. He would have loved to vent out to someone. He had never gotten that close to actually doing it. In so many ways he was grateful to Potter for saving him. He can't just give up. But in so many ways he was ungrateful and did want to give up.
Ever since his father Lucius was sent to Azkaban, the Malfoy name had been but an utter disgrace to the wizarding world. His mother is always shooting up drugs or drinking like a fish to "pretend" the great shame of it away. He has not heard from her much all term and is scared for her. He lacks any energy to be with friends who he's always felt better than. He's never had an equal friend before...
Feeling uncomfortably wistful, Draco goes back to bed. But as he lies down, yet another daunting puzzle invades Draco's mind, sharper the more he attempts to relax. Unending, the unorthodox image of one very undesirable person pollutes the scape of his mind: Harry Potter keeps coming to mind — surprise, surprise.
Famous Harry Potter: the boy he's always hated yet secretly been jealous of. The boy he has always found beautiful, though of course, he has never ever said that aloud. He wonders often if it is a crush, or just a simple attraction. Draco has never fancied girls.
Harry sees Malfoy during the evening feast. He is the only Slytherin to stay during break. There are close to no students left but Harry, Ron, and Hermione have all stayed. Dumbledore and the staff are present as usual.
"A very quiet Christmas, this year is certainly turning out to be!" Dumbledore comments and beams at all them. Dumbledore has always been festive.
Harry is not paying attention. He is watching Malfoy - the boy he has always hated yet been jealous of. His looks are immaculate, always have been. He has always felt self-conscious in Malfoy's presence. In all honesty, Harry favors girls. But there have been one or two boys in his time he has fancied - And he often wonders if Malfoy is one of them.
Midnight, Christmas Day. Draco is walking to the North Tower to smoke. He smokes cigarettes in times of stress. But he really finds the habit sickening. He smokes one, takes the pack and throws it off the banister. He hates those cigarettes. They're awful for his vanity, too. He takes out a joint, light it and inhales. Draco loves pot.
Then, with a shudder Draco randomly hears footsteps. He looks back warily and sees it's the-one-and-only, messianic Harry Potter — yet again. He has no cloak with him this time. "I thought you'd be here," Harry says. "You smoke?"
"No," Draco says sarcastically. "I just happen to be getting high on a joint."
"Ah," Harry says casually, going along with Malfoy's dry tone. "Don't you smoke cigarettes?"
"Not anymore," says Draco, looking over the balcony. "Look at my teeth. Look how yellow they are. I can't smoke those anymore."
Harry laughs. "That's Draco Malfoy for you. I'm assuming you don't become addicted to things."
"I don't. I'm a Malfoy. Now a Malfoy loves the occasional cigar or to get a bit ... tipsy, but we are not addicts to anything," Draco says. "Well, except power and beauty that is."
"Hmm, that seems about right," Harry says musingly.
Draco is very surprised by this comment. "Am I having a normal conversation with Harry Potter?" Draco asks. He is beginning to feel the state of weightlessness.
"Think so," suggests Harry, looking amused.
Draco laughs hardheartedly. "I like that," he says in a theatrical tone. And he gets closer to Harry. Nothing matters. Harry is a beauty. And he kisses him.
Harry kisses back, hard. But then he pulls way too fast for Draco's liking, then saying tamely, "What did I always want for Christmas? Draco Malfoy, I think," Harry wryly poeticizes, smiling bright and wide. His voice is excited and eager, going along a special, very certain "naughty" road (if you catch his flirty drift).
"Oh Merlin's beard, yes sir! Tell me your darkest, dirty desires! Saved me on Christmas Eve, famous Harry Potter did; then that rambunctious Boy-Who-Lived made sure I was safe beside him on Christmas Day, too. Yes, what a pretty picture, me smoking a joint joyously the very next night, bloody Potter my company…" declares Draco, speaking as though he were recounting an epic story. Unusual for Draco as it is, though, he is nervous, stuttering at the feeling of Harry's chest.
"Another sweet fluorescent night," Harry confidently settles. The excited boy exchanges a mischievous, beyond suggestive glance with his uncanny companion.
Whatever happens next, their unconventional Christmas story is already the promising tale of two unlikely smitten boys and two promisingly fluorescent nights!