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Chapter Eight!

Saturday, Harry was called up to the headmaster's office, probably to be lectured about over-exerting himself. He'd already gotten lectured by McGonagall, so it logically followed that Dumbledore would do the same. It seemed Harry never got lectured just once.

Instead, Dumbledore seemed to have a letter for him.

"There were some inquiries over how you would spend the holidays," Dumbledore told Harry, "originally it was planned that you would stay here and catch up on your studies, is that still the case, I notice you are still signed up to stay."

Harry nodded.

"Well," Dumbledore held out an envelope, "I have this for you."

Harry took the letter and opened it up, after a second of reading, Harry looked up, shocked.

"I thought you may have that reaction," Dumbledore chuckled.

"This," Harry said waving the letter, "this can't be right! Or safe!"

Harry gaped and tried to figure out what to say next, "They can't be serious!"

"Oh, I assure you Mrs. Malfoy is indeed serious," Dumbledore told Harry, "she has been constantly inquiring about your well-being."

Harry remembered all the times Dumbledore had said people had been asking about him…did that mean it had been Narcissa Malfoy all this time?

"She's even written almost as many times as Mrs. Weasley," Dumbledore continued, "I must say I've never had this many mothers contact me over one student's well-being."

"Well, what do I do about this?" Harry demanded, waving the letter so hard it wrinkled.

"It's quite simple, Harry," Dumbledore replied, "simply decide whether or not you'd like to go and then send an owl saying what you've decided."

Harry stared at Dumbledore, incredulously, "You think it's okay for me to go to the…Annual Malfoy Family Yule Feast?"

"Honestly?" Dumbledore replied, "I think she would have tried to hurt you several times over if that had been her intent, each week she sends you perfectly safe treats and clothing and not once have our tests turned up any evidence of foul play. In addition, I, myself, have been invited to go along with you should you desire to go. So I think you will be quite safe. Not only that," Dumbledore finished brightly, "but she does seem quite fond of you. You have such of way of winning people over, Harry."

"My mother told me to give you this, Potter," Malfoy declared, holding out a parcel-Harry already had another box of biscuits as it was Monday. Malfoy shuffled a bit nervously and added, looking a bit embarrassed, "And she told me to apologize for ruining your that's the best you're going to get. Take it or leave it."

Harry rolled his eyes and took the second parcel and opened it, he then promptly flushed, it was another green cloak-Clearly meant to replace the "ruined" one that had remained pink in a few places after Harry had spelled the goo off of it.

Malfoy was currently squinting at Harry, his expression a bit confused.

"What?" Harry demanded.

"When did you get rid of your glasses?"

"They've been gone since the accident!" Hermione exclaimed, "You seriously just now noticed?"

"Apparently you need some glasses, Malfoy," Harry teased.

"Best not to," Ron warned Draco, "I may like your mom well enough, since she sends sweets, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't break anything that was attached to your face if you were a big enough ass."

"Ron," Hermione and Harry chided more out of habit than anything else.

"It's just…" Malfoy seemed to have lost the right word, "they were ugly and they made you look ugly, and I think it's for the best that they're gone."

Harry blinked and then said, "Me too?"

Harry looked to Hermione and Ron for support, they both nodded rather empathetically.

"Yes," Harry said, more firmly, "me too."

Then Harry realized he should say something nice to Malfoy, "You, um…" Harry blinked and scrunched up his face in thought, "could have worse looking teeth."

"I try to practice good dental hygiene," Malfoy admitted.

"I really never liked my glasses," Harry conceded.

Malfoy sniffed and then studied Harry before finally nodding in approval and heading back over to the Slytherin table.

"That was weird."

The first snow finally fell that week, and Harry had gone out in his usual winter garb, but found that the garments weren't performing as well as they used to, probably due to how threadbare they'd gotten. He'd ended up leaving the other Gryffindor boys to go bundle up in warmer clothing.

The warmest things he had, he discovered, were all the things Mrs. Malfoy sent him-he'd been refraining from wearing them so Ginny wouldn't nag him and Lavender and Pavarti wouldn't hit on him. So as quickly as possible, Harry had thrown on the hat, gloves, scarf, and cloak and run back down to the common room where he was halted by numerous stares.

"Harry," Hermione said slowly into the silence, "Mrs. Malfoy seems to have…sent you clothes more suitable for a Slytherin poster child."

Harry examined his outerwear and then flushed so much he could even feel it on his gloved hands.

"Well," Harry said, plucking at the cuffs of his gloves, "they're the warmest things I've got."

He then rushed out and down to where he'd left his year mates, who began laughing and saying that now their snowball fight would have to be Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. They'd all ganged up on him and began pounding him with snowballs, and then Harry drew his wand and began using it to fling snowballs back at them-because he only had so many hands-until they'd all collapsed, laughing and freezing, down into a snow bank.

"You're a one-man team, you are, mate," Ron, pink-cheeked and panting, told Harry.

"Well played, Potter," Seamus told him with a firm slap to the back, and Neville and Dean nodded in friendly praise and agreement.

Harry later felt brave enough to wear the get-up to dinner, to the shock of all the other houses. Lavender and Pavarti sat next to him at dinner, Ron and Hermione across from him.

"Now that the shock has passed," Hermione told him with a smile, "I must say that the colors do really suit you."

"It's true," Pavarti told him, slowly blinking her eyes.

Lavender pressed her breasts into his arm and Harry flushed, and she suggestively informed him, "You look so handsome."

"I don't know if he looks that good," Hermione told Lavender sharply, and Lavender pulled away and wrapped her robes around her. Harry mouthed 'thank you' to Hermione who rolled her eyes in clear amusement.

Harry ended up writing a long letter to Remus detailing the events surrounding the cloaks as well as the fun afternoon of snowball fighting. Remus quickly responded with a slightly related tale about the marauders in their 6th years and Harry couldn't help but smile when he read about their antics.