It was a nightmare only because Harry knew it was.
It was pretty plain at face value, but there was an undercurrent of terror that made it very clear that despite how boring the situation, he knew for a fact this was a nightmare and that he was not having a good time right now.
Contrary to what he might've imagined, or any other nightmare he'd had before, he wasn't inside the shed this time. He was merely sitting outside of it, the sharp smell of grass imprinted in his brain in a way that told him he was either actively hallucinating right now for it to be so real in his nose, or the experience of getting out of his own personal hell was a memory seared so harshly into his psyche that it would never truly leave him.
He had a ton of memories associated with fresh cut grass that were good, but right now the smell made him horrifically nauseous and he felt his heart beating in his chest: not fast exactly but he was consciously aware of its very loud thumping, enough to really stress him the hell out.
He wasn't aware of anything else but the grass beneath him and the shed door behind his back where he sat leaning against it, wooden walls with their smell and pattern also etched permanently into his brain from how intimately he knew them. A side effect of staring at them for endless, endless hours.
There was barely any sound, but the lack of it only increased how uneasy and sick to his stomach he was.
It was a dream, so he had no proof exactly, but somehow he just knew that Remus was silently sitting on the other side of the door, also leaning against it and only the thin wood of a very muggle shed separating them. The heavy chain of the bike lock over the handles above his head sat there ominously… Harry wanted to reach for them but he knew he didn't have the key. Dream logic failed to go any further than him sitting there in absolute despair and muted terror that he didn't have the key.
He didn't know why he felt like crying, but he did.
Maybe it was because he didn't have a ton of those traditionally 'good' experiences that sometimes Harry caught himself not enjoying a moment out of this inescapable bittersweetness.
It was like you knew it was a good memory forming while it was happening, but something in his heart couldn't just let go and enjoy it like he didn't have any other cares in the world. He wanted this Christmas to be everything he'd ever missed, wanted it to be like the ones you saw on TV and in movies, wanted to be happy as 'a kid on Christmas morning' since that was something people always said.
Reality was much more… well, reality.
That didn't mean it wasn't good, that it wasn't everything he'd ever wanted, it was also just… another day, somehow.
A good day though.
He'd never been so excited for Christmas exactly: last year at Hogwarts was the closest he ever got, and he still spent it mostly alone although he'd enjoyed it a lot and had a ton of fun. How could he not, when by comparison his Christmases of past consisted of him waking before the light to cook his relatives a holiday spread, then stand in the kitchen or—in worse years—in his cupboard listening to Dudley get showered with gifts. His cousin got gifts all year round though, and got even more on his birthday somehow, so it wasn't like Christmas was super different to any other day in the Dursley household. It wasn't different except… Harry knew that every other family in their neighborhood was also doing the same things and he felt insanely left out.
That was a feeling pervasive to his entire existence though, and the concept of Christmas usually made it worse but not by much.
He'd gotten over it, he'd told himself. Or, gotten used to it, he should say.
The idea he got a holiday with someone for once, much less that it was Remus… well it wasn't until he was helping Alden with his own dream that he put the words he'd been avoiding into form.
He wanted to have a good Christmas, he really did. The realist inside of him said it was just another day though, don't get your hopes up, reality never actually matched the picture in your head… and he was right to a point but it was also genuinely a really nice day if he could just let himself be senselessly happy for once.
Still, the bittersweetness probably got to him after how emotionally exhausting the past couple days had been. Be it his less-than-quiet dreams, or even the fact he was finally just comfortable enough with the routine they now had, but his internal alarm clock didn't wake him before dawn anymore. So when Christmas morning finally came he actually slept in, counterintuitively on the one morning every other child was probably pointedly waking up earlier than normal.
And he was not used to having someone wake him up.
Honestly he could not recall a moment in his living memory when someone else had woken him up, other than long ago when the Dursleys used to bang on his cupboard door as they walked past him. He'd learned at a very young age to be up before them to avoid those terrifying wake-up calls, and to this day he was always, without fail, the first person up in the Gryffindor dorm so none of his roommates had ever even had the chance to wake him. He'd been woken after being injured or taking a light nap on Hogwarts grounds and such, but so far as anyone ever coming into where he was safely sleeping in his own bed?
Never.
So it was a completely novel experience when, from somewhere deep in unconsciousness without a dream to hold onto the first thing he became aware of was a hand on his hair, and suddenly the morning light flooded into his consciousness without warning.
The second thing that registered was Remus' teasing voice singing one of the carols they'd heard walking down to the village last night to celebrate the Eve of the holiday and watch the festivities. There'd been a lot of carolers and that song had been stuck in both their heads the entire walk home.
As he blinked awake and tried to get in his bearings blearily, Moony saw his eyes open and flashed him an amused smile, patting his head lightly. "Happy Christmas Harry… tired, are we?"
He just grumbled a wordless complaint and the werewolf chuckled, pushing his head back into the pillow gently and going off to the kitchen. Harry really was sleepy as hell and just lay there to wake up incredibly slowly for some reason, while listening to Remus move about the kitchen. He smelled the floral scents of fresh tea and toast being slightly overcooked as they both liked it, and by the time he was returning with the cups and plates to place on the end table next to the couch, Harry was at least sitting up and trying to stretch off the sleepiness that wouldn't leave like it normally did the moment his eyes were open. Maybe that was the difference in waking up on your own versus someone else doing it—clearly his body wasn't ready.
"Merry Christmas," He offered, but was cut off by a yawn out of nowhere.
Remus laughed softly, offering him a tea cup and sitting on the end of the couch his legs didn't reach to with his own cup. "Someone slept well. Or were you too excited you didn't sleep at all?"
"Maybe? I thought I fell asleep fine," And he wasn't going to admit that Remus instilling a bedtime made it so he could barely keep his eyes open at ten at night anymore. He was going to be so annoyed about that during his first Astronomy class of the next semester, he was sure.
It took him an embarrassingly long time to catch up to the fact this wasn't just every other morning they'd had like this, this was Christmas morning, and look over at their tree. He perked right awake to see the veritable mountain of gifts there.
"Where's Hedwig!?"
"Dead asleep in her tree—seems she had a very busy night and isn't interested in the noise we're going to make in here," Moony smiled and Harry relaxed, knowing he had treats specifically for her in his bag to thank her for this very arduous night when she woke up later this eve. Not only was she delivering a lot of presents Harry himself had bought but she'd also clearly put in a lot of work bringing just as many back. "Did you want to do presents or breakfast first?"
Harry only thought a moment about it before deciding he wasn't that responsible.
"Presents!" He downed his tea and put the cup to the side to slip out of his blankets and to the floor to inspect it. "The twins said they'd be sending a lot of candy anyway and can't have breakfast ruining that,"
"Well at least your priorities are in order," came the dry reply. The werewolf seemed to have abandoned any sense of order, given it was Christmas all bets were off and Harry intended to take full advantage of that.
The first thing he noticed amongst the large pile of gifts arranged beneath the tree as he did a quick scan, was that pretty much all of them were his. It was definitely unbalanced, which did not make him feel very good, but behind him Remus just settled on the couch with his tea and from the way his eyes were alight he seemed very interested in just watching Harry open them all.
Remus was… a good person. Harry already very much knew that, but to know he was genuinely happy to just share in someone else's joy even if there wasn't much coming his way was… well, Harry knew Moony was a better person than he himself was. Moony just wasn't materialistic, a lot like Neville in that way: his happiness seemed to be found in how glad he was at the proof of how many friends Harry had to give him presents like this, instead of the meaningless things he may or may not have received himself.
And Harry didn't intend to disappoint so he straightened up and got over it, focusing back on how much he did appreciate all the people who got him stuff, and also renewing his Christmas and gift giving spirit.
Because it didn't matter if Remus only had a couple presents here and there from this stupid world, Harry had unfortunately already known that was likely to happen and had planned ahead.
He pulled over his bottomless bag that he kept at the base of the couch he was sleeping on and stood up over the werewolf, who blinked at him once but did not have proper time to really react to what he was up to before Harry dumped the bag over him, an avalanche of presents coming out much to his loud shock.
"Harry…" Came a distressed warning tone as Remus did a double take at the presents now laying over him and the couch around him, delicately extracting his arm at least to get his mug to safety on the side table.
"Ooooo, wait 'till you open them before you decide to scold me," Harry just gave him an evil and completely unrepentant grin. "You're definitely going to be more mad about what they are first before the quantity!"
Remus looked dismayed and almost afraid to open one, but did so very hesitantly with a twelve-year-old standing over him and refusing to move until he did so. It didn't take him long though to do a double take at the sweater he unearthed, dark brown but with a complimentary yellow diamond pattern.
Harry really enjoyed the horror on his face as he realized.
"These are all clothes." He put together, sounding defeated with a grave air somehow.
"Yep!" He chirped—a lie since there was other stuff in there like books and candy and tea, but the volume was definitely mostly clothes. "You're gonna look great!"
"Harry," He repeated his name, far more distressed now.
He was ignored though as the boy in question just turned and plopped down to the floor before his own presents pile with a wave of his hand over his shoulder. "You're barely thirty and you dress like an old man. We are definitely going to go over what matches with what before I go back to school."
"Harry."
"I'm just helping!"
The man gave a very put upon sigh as he wilted into couch, hiding his face in the sweater still in his hands and Harry tossed his head back, laughing maniacally. It was a very vindicating reaction since at least Remus wasn't embarrassed or considering it charity—the plan of convincing him that he was just vain enough to be obsessed with clothes worked perfectly and he always did love when a plan came together.
"Please just… open your presents." Remus begged for a distraction, which Harry was happy to oblige.
In fact, he had just the thing and went hunting through the pile for one in particular he suspected would be here, and was proven right by one blob in brown wrapping. Ripping it open he was thrilled to see a dark green, fluffy wool sweater with a golden 'H' on it from Mrs. Weasley, and grinned as he slipped it on to complete the Christmas day fit.
"Look, now we match!"
"You were right about Mrs. Weasley then," Moony allowed, still recovering from his shock with a fond smile as Harry showed off his new prize joyously. Thankfully the attempt worked some as he seemed to relax at the reminder that Harry's joy over clothes was not strictly related just to dressing (torturing) him, but in general too.
"Her and the twins were the only people brave enough to get me clothes last year, but I do wonder…" He scanned the rest of the presents, curious if anyone else would be that brave again and this time genuinely interested in what people thought he'd like to wear. He actually did spot one that was clearly some kind of fabric, although very well packaged, and as he picked it up realized the wrapping paper was thick and expensive and a very obvious dark gold color. He almost couldn't actually believe what all that implied though. "Did a Slytherin get me clothes!?"
"That would be amusing," Remus agreed with Harry's internal thoughts, bemused and curious.
He ripped it open immediately, the curiosity too much to bear… and was stunned by the fabric that came spilling out because if felt more like water as it cascaded over his hands, slipping out of the package like it was desperate to escape. It was made all the more water-like by the fact it was a deep blue, like silk but not as cold, cashmere but not as stuffy. He had no idea how to describe the feel of it, but it had to be some kind of magic as it definitely echoed almost like his invisibility cloak but way more luxurious.
As it unfurled he realized it wasn't clothes exactly, but it was an entire roll of whatever this fabric was. There had to be ten yards if he were to unravel it all—and suddenly it hit him that the intention was probably for him to make something with it.
"Oh my god—definitely a Slytherin but what the hell?" He was aghast and in awe, to put it bluntly.
"It's beautiful," Even Remus had to admit, blinking widely in surprise. "I've never even seen fabric like that,"
Harry struggled to keep the watery fabric contained back into its package, and as he did so a card slipped out that he immediately abandoned the cloth to pick up. All that was on it though, was two brief words in very elegant writing:
.
Like it?
.
Harry chucked the card into the fireplace to his right with a shout.
"God damn it Blaise, now I actually have to thank him for it!" He exploded, making Remus jump a bit.
"Do you not like it?"
"Of course I do! And that jerk knows it and is going to hold it over my head!" He fake wailed, kind of impressed against his wishes.
He could almost hear the smugness in the bare two words, and both hated it but also was in awe at this fabric as well as the fact Blaise had actually gone there. Knowing him, it was probably sourced from some obscure, incredibly fashionable and niche place in Italy.
Did I tell anyone but McGonagall my half-assed intention to open a clothes shop one day? I'm pretty sure I never told a Slytherin outside of Draco as I knew they wouldn't see it as a very impressive ambition and there's no way Draco sold me out to that bitch.
Which meant Blaise had just figured it out on his own somehow and if that wasn't annoying enough Harry had opened it first. That had to be some kind of power-play in the snake gift-giving-game that the Zabini heir had picked such a good gift that Harry couldn't deny he liked it even if he wanted to, and had gravitated towards it even while fully wrapped.
No wait, I opened Mrs. Weasley's sweater first… thank god, I can defend myself with that.
He breathed a sigh of relief and decided to shelve his craziest snake friend's future harassment for later thought. He did like the fabric but he was going to need to do some serious leg work to utilize it right. It was both a compliment that Blaise had figured him out enough to suspect he'd like to make his own clothes one day, but also very much a challenge. Something like, 'use my ungodly expensive, luxurious fabric and make it something good because it you're not fashionable with literally the best material to work off of then you suck' sort of thing.
Trust Blaise to know literally everything and then also use a gift to assign him homework essentially. Devious bastard.
He moved on, opening gifts with Remus cheerfully commentating on his enthusiasm in between his complaints about his own presents, as he slowly realized what Harry was trying to do to his wardrobe.
Theo had clearly worked around Blaise again, as he remembered last year they'd gotten him a journal and quill—basic obligatory gifts but matching enough that he'd once thought they'd collaborated. Now he strongly suspected Blaise had flaunted his own gift knowing no one would be able to match it and Theo had just quietly sourced a complimentary gift to go along with it, slyly capitalizing on Blaise's gift-giving skills instead of doing too much himself. Not that Harry was at all disappointed by that, because he'd done a very good job of it: his gift was several fold with a box full of sewing materials, such as magically sharp fabric scissors, levitating auto-measuring tape like the ones Madam Malkin's used, pins and chalk pens and square rules and more. Harry was in fact not well versed yet in what it took make his own clothes so there were several items he didn't even know what they were yet but he was confident he now had everything he needed to give this new hobby a go when he was ready.
From Daphne he actually got what appeared to be six tickets to a muggle concert happening in London over the summer. He didn't recognize the band but it was very reassuring that she seemed confident he'd be able to go considering everything else going on that she knew about. She'd also sent along a couple of their CDs of the band in question, so clearly it wasn't just that she'd seen the band shirts he wore for the aesthetic sometimes and assumed he liked them, she was setting him up to like them and then go see them in person which was really cool. She had good taste and was just as clever as Blaise in the gift-giving arena so he was just going to assume she knew him better than he knew himself and was confident he'd end up liking this music.
Working his way deeper into the pile, he found gifts from various Slytherins he'd been attempting to get in good graces with, so clearly those efforts weren't for nothing if they felt the need to reciprocate with a gift. Even the obligatory gifts, since most of their interactions had been them bumming notes off of him or exchanging small bits of information here and there, so the result was a lot of nice journals, quills, and even the occasional muggle pen. He wasn't sure about the meaning behind the pens: he assumed they were calling him a muggleborn in a semi or outright offensive way, but since they were really nice pens and he kind of expected as much, he didn't care. Honestly he was just curious as to how they knew what a muggle pen was much less how they managed to get one if the topic of anything muggle was so taboo to them.
All in all most of them felt very obligatory with varying levels of backhanded insults behind each one, but he still got some really nice journals and he'd been needing new ones for his subjects anyway, so score. One fourth-year snake he'd given notes to once actually gave him a pretty rare potion ingredient though, which surprised him as that was actually kind of nice… before bursting out laughing when he realized the guy was in Montague's year level. They must've really fucking hated that bastard and was thankful to Harry for getting rid of him pretty much.
From his baby snakes he got a set of dragon leather broom riding gloves with beautiful red stitching and his name embroidered onto the straps, as well as a clearly handmade bracelet with plastic rainbow beads. The gifts were jointly marked 'From Lake and Alden', however Harry was pretty amused that you could clearly tell who had what influence. It suited them very well though and he was honestly touched.
Moving into lion territory though, he was thrilled not only by his own dose of Hagrid fudge and rock cakes, but also over the moon that Remus got his own matching box as well. Further proof that Hagrid was certainly, and always would be, one of his favorite people for being the lovable, gentle giant he was.
He got nothing from Ron, not that he expected anything else, but he felt very vindicated that he'd still gotten him a gift even if it was a backhanded one. Ron wouldn't care like a snake would but Harry was so incredibly satisfied that he'd gotten a Slytherin gift-giving win over him, even if he'd never know it.
Hermione got him a book on quidditch and a new journal with golden snitch drawings on the bottom corner of each page—the only journal of the day that he had full confidence was not a backhanded compliment too, so he treasured it greatly.
Seamus got him a broom care kit and, hidden in the box, also braved an attempt at giving him clothes to include several knee-high socks for playing football in several bright colors and stripes. Harry appreciated the effort and also how practical it was since the football club was only growing by the day, and everyone was getting more and more 'official' gear to go with it.
Dean did manage to surprise him though with something much gentler, by giving him a really nice jewelry box: a deep green-grey with gold trim and a beautiful jade bird inlaid on the top. Harry found it kind of ironic that if he were to compare the two, then Seamus was for sure the more compassionate, considerate guy out of most Gryffindor boys (except Neville who was an extreme outlier in several ways). Dean was a bit more boyish and definitely seemed like the sort who'd stick to sports themes given that's almost entirely what they talked about. Their gifts were almost exactly reversed though… which is when Harry remembered Dean had four younger sisters, so he probably had a lot more experience with softer, more thoughtful gifts than most other boys their age actually. He probably would not be a bad person to bounce gift ideas off next year if he could remember come next Yule.
Susan won the award for most random gift, with a daily planner but also a tie with a very cartoony strawberry pattern. Harry had no idea how he was going to fit a tie into his wardrobe given the only ties he had were for the Hogwarts uniform and he took them off any opportunity he could but… you know what, he couldn't exactly fault her for giving awkward gifts so while it was weird as hell he was still into it. While not quite his style, he'd make it work somehow. Hopefully she wouldn't mind if he tweaked it a bit though…
Hannah's he almost couldn't figure out until he realized the strange bottle was not a potion but—a cologne? He breathed a sigh of relief, very thankful she was a Hufflepuff because it startled him for a second. Had she been a Slytherin, unless it was literally a priceless perfume or had a very significant meaning it would've been a very blunt 'you smell' type of insult, and if a snake actually gave him a perfume to say that then he might just jump off the astronomy tower in mortification. He gave a relieved laugh as he sniffed it—and it did smell great, he couldn't lie!
Lu's was super fun: it was a wizard's chess piece, but just a king who had this wizened old voice that began coaching him through how to play since he was a newer player. Like a grandfather in his pocket designed to teach him chess! Very clever since Lu had only gotten him roped into a game a couple times and he was pitifully bad at it, so this would not only improve his skill but then also gave Lu further excuses to get him into a game— and then beat the shit out of him at it.
His baby lions (he tried not to think about Colin's name missing amongst them) all got together with a book made for pressing flowers. They had been very hyped on him using flowers as a combat tool and had all wanted him to teach them that during their dueling lessons, though since it was an upper year spell they had to wait on that for now. Clearly the theme was running strong with them though.
Luna got him a pair of glasses that supposedly helped him see… humpspurts? He wasn't sure which one of the creatures she talked about they were for but he wasn't going to question it, because yeah why not. He put them on his head like a headband to hold back his hair and proceeded onward.
The twins got both him and Mr. Moony a full arsenal of their test prank products and snacks— to which Harry was very wary but willing to try it out curiously. Particularly since Remus seemed over the moon about it (…is that a pun?) and was willing to be on call in case anything went wrong to undo the magic. They'd also once again braved his outfit choices to get him a bright red jacket, scarf, and hat that actually almost eerily matched his hair color, complete with a bright green pom pom on top. He knew immediately they were trying to turn him into a literal apple and found it very, very funny.
Neville won his heart all over again with an entire set of small glass frames, each with a pressed flower inside that he'd definitely grown himself and strung with wire to hang wherever he wanted— which he was ecstatic to do the moment he got the chance. He'd put them on the walls now if Moony would let him and when he got back to Hogwarts fully intended to line the inside upper edge of his four poster bed curtains so he could have them close. Almost as if reading his mind about it though, in the same box Harry also unearthed a dreamcatcher with beautiful purple and white beading… he'd had no idea if dreamcatchers really were magical or not, or if this was just a muggle thing with his friend's quiet wish he had peaceful dreams, but either way Harry was genuinely touched and knew he'd never part with it.
There was a metric ton of candy, bookmarks, small bracelets and trinkets from many acquaintances throughout the school, some of which Harry realized he had not gotten them anything. He felt immediately bad over that, to realize some of them he hadn't really talked to, or maybe he had just in passing? He couldn't even remember really talking with most of them once and felt horrible to realize they'd clearly gotten something more out of their exchanges than he had to think of him during the holiday like this. He wanted to say this was the social blunder Slytherins wanted to avoid by playing by strict rules but he also knew there's no way they'd feel as guilty as he did right now over it, it was more just them looking bad they wanted to avoid. And Harry sure as hell looked bad in his own head for the mistake even if the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who'd given these small gifts probably didn't really care that much.
He immediately began writing down the gifts and names of who gave them in one of his new journals, knowing he needed to keep better track from here on out since he couldn't do it by memory. He'd thank all of them personally in person once school started themselves, maybe giving them belated new year's candy or something…
Oops.
"These are pretty good," Remus was high key amused as he picked through the treats the twins had given him. "They're what, fourth years you said?"
"Yep. I kind of suspected they were more ahead than their grades suggested they were." Harry shrugged. "They helped me get ahead in Transfiguration last year, and they really knew their stuff."
"This is a little higher level than just being 'ahead' as a fourth year… this is something I'm sure a seventh year would struggle to do, much less invent." Moony lifted a piece of wrapped candy that looked pretty normal to Harry, which is how he knew not to trust it for a second.
"What does it do?"
"Cause and cure illnesses apparently… although going by how unstable the charm is I'm going to recommend we not eat them until I've given them some notes on fixing the stability."
"Really? They seemed so confident they were almost perfected," Harry remembered the twins boasting about their 'nearly finished' prank snack line.
Moony gave a wry smile as he sniffed it once but then carefully put it back down. "They've likely been testing it on themselves, and to them it probably is nearly stable. It probably wouldn't do much to me as I'm an adult, and also resistant to magic… and it would probably be overly effective on someone like you, whose two years younger. I don't think they took into account the strength of the charm depending on who is eating it." He explained, Harry realizing that was a pretty big weak point, yeah. He knew they'd been selling them to classmates already but all those customers were, currently, their same age and magic level. If someone younger or older ate them, there might be very different results. "It's an easy fix but I think I'll give them some pointers in the letter I send."
It had been established pretty early in this trip that Mr. Moony had to write back to the twins, something Remus was not upset about at all but actually seemed very interested in doing. The topic of pranks, particularly the mechanics of it all and helping this next generation get good at it, always made his soft gold eyes light up a bit more than they normally did. At this point the 'letter' he'd been drafting might be a small novel by the time Harry left to bring it back to Hogwarts with him.
"I'm sure they'll be both bummed but also hyped for the new challenge," He mused, attention shifting back to the present that he'd been saving for last. Clearly he knew it was from, since the silver wrapping paper and neat black ribbon just screamed 'Malfoy' so it was easy to avoid that one until the end.
For as much as he thought he knew Draco, some part of him also kind of wondered what went on in his blond head sometimes. How he looked at the world was just so vastly different from his own way that Harry did wonder sometimes… just, what he thought of things. Of him.
He was willing to acknowledge at this point that Draco was his best friend… Neville just as close in some ways but Draco was important for different reasons he couldn't quite explain. He knew that Neville loved him like a brother, that he didn't just and would always be there. Draco though… sometimes he worried what Draco really thought of his choices or just of him in particular.
Actually getting a gift from him was like seeing what he thought he'd like felt like an opportunity to get an honest glimpse into his mind.
Although… perhaps he was overthinking it some, when he opened the box to reveal something so quintessentially Draco he couldn't help but feel so insanely fond of that boy. He lifted up the journal, only a confused for a beat but confident he hadn't actually just gotten him a notebook like he was some aquaintence, opening it and being unable to help smiling.
Inside, in his eerily perfect handwriting with some actually very impressive illustrations, was what seemed to be an entire journal of potion notes. It was completely filled with diagrams of various plants and potion ingredients, entire pages around beautiful sketches detailing long paragraphs and explanations of what each one did and how it worked, the various ways to cut them and what they did to potions. His personally handwritten notes cut right to the chase and made it exceptionally clear for someone who was only decent at potions. Harry did have a potion ingredient book he'd bought in Diagon last year but this was custom made for him, since at this point Draco now knew exactly what language Harry needed to speak in order to understand something.
The detail, the careful crafting of a quill over an entire journal and the precise drawings… it must've taken him forever to do.
Before he could really absorb it, he saw also in the box something gleaming and shiny: a gorgeous hair pin of sprawling Christmas roses that seemed to be cut from iridescent clear diamonds.
Harry had to laugh.
Draco is always trying to fix things, but he had no idea how.
His heart melted some, lifting the hair pin but not replacing Luna's glasses for it just yet, instead just holding the two items in his hands carefully.
Yeah… it made sense. Draco Malfoy could buy literally anything in this world that money could buy… which probably meant at this point that 'things' just held almost no meaning to him anymore. He knew whatever he bought with what amounted to his parents' money though was not the message he wanted to send—and Slytherins were all about what a gift would mean instead of the actual object itself.
The hair pin—which was undoubtedly worth something ungodly probably—was a reminder that while he had money and he could spend it easily, it was almost an afterthought to his true intention. What Draco really wanted… was to help, to be involved, to understand and be able to fix things even if Harry wouldn't let him.
He couldn't fix the problems Harry wasn't bringing to him, but by Merlin he could sure as hell fix his potion grade.
The whole idea of it being 'the thought that counts' really took on a new meaning here, as Draco could spend literally any amount of galleons and it would ultimately mean nothing—to him or anyone else since it was clear he didn't care about the price. The fact he'd spent how many hours though, creating this beautiful journal with exquisite care…
Money meant nothing to him, the pin was proof of it.
The fact he'd spent that much time and attention and effort… that was much more priceless.
He couldn't help but smile and get a little misty eyed as he clutched the journal tight to his chest. He didn't see Remus smiling in his own form of joy behind him.
000
"Merry Christmas, Malfoy."
Draco greeted the Greengrass heiress politely, given his family was hosting the annual Yule ball. It would've been so much more fun with Harry here, but now that he wasn't a first-year and understood more about the politics of this entire thing, maybe it was for the best he wasn't in attendance.
The amount of ex-death eaters here would not have made him that comfortable, probably… but then again Harry only really had an issue with his mother, not his father who wasn't exactly hiding his past relation so…
You know what, Draco was going to stop trying to assume what Harry might or might not like since clearly he had no idea.
"Greengrass." He inclined his head and she gave a stiff bow that was precisely polite while not overstating it, since they did know each other in a much more casual setting at this point.
And honestly he was thankful to have someone to talk to normally for once. He'd done proper greetings of everyone as they arrived, including his own housemates with their parents, and was getting bored of the small talk and niceties that no one actually meant. He couldn't even enjoy a comfortable silence as Nott was here somewhere, but doing an amazing job of remaining completely hidden from sight and not socializing on point of death.
And given Blaise was standing by his mother's side as they charmed the entire party senseless meant he was staying firmly on the other side of the room from wherever they were and wouldn't get a chance to even say hi. He was under strict instructions from both parents not to speak to Dalia Zabini unless his mother was right next to him and he was not interesting in testing that rule.
"Have you been enjoying the break?"
"It's been quiet," was all he could say, but by her smirk she knew damn well why.
"Speaking of the notable absence of drama in our lives this break, I am curious as to what he got you. I offered to help but he seemed determined to do something himself,"
"Turnabout's fair play," He challenged right back and she grinned, tucking a stray piece of hair back into its elegant braid.
"A pretty necklace and some earrings… oh, and a treasure map."
Draco blinked, then dropped the casual facade to give her a wild look of surprise. She just grinned.
"You heard that right. He must've gotten it from something he inherited from the Monroe line, as they were once business folk themselves… but it's an honest-to-Merlin treasure map. Father thinks it's real even, but we're having it authenticated in the new year."
Draco couldn't help but look ahead and question his life choices, but secretly he was very impressed with his friend. Slytherins did love a challenge, and business-oriented people like the Greengrass family liked the gamble over profit even more, even if they tracked it down and the treasure it promised ended up being nothing. That was… oddly perfect, despite the fact it was absolutely bloody insane.
Who the hell just had a treasure map lying around!?
Harry Potter-Monroe apparently, that's who.
"I've stopped questioning things at this point," He announced and Daphne just laughed, clearly agreeing.
"He certainly showed up this year, that's for certain. I hope he pulled out all the stops for you too?" She nudged and he gave in, not actually upset since he'd honestly been waiting for a chance to brag. And someone like Daphne and Theo were really the only people safe enough to tell.
He didn't have a hair out of place but he did mimic her motion of pushing a lock behind his ear, and her eye caught the shine.
He was… unspeakably proud of the small cuff around his upper ear, as it gleamed when caught by the light but was normally so clear it was nearly invisible. The cuff wrapped around his ear were crystal leaves, and the main feature being a type of flower he didn't immediately recognize when he got it this morning, but not for a second did he believe Harry didn't fully and carefully pick the flowers he used for specific meanings, always. He'd spent a lot of time before he needed to get ready for the party looking through his mother's gardening books until he found the right flower: and alstroemeria.
It means friendship, and devotion.
Not that that was the bit he was going to flaunt. He was going to keep that information to himself, for his own personal knowledge actually.
"It's a diamond. He transfigured it himself." He tried not to brag too hard as that was unsightly but… he was bragging, no way around it.
Daphne blinked, narrowing her eyes.
"You're awfully proud for a piece of jewelry you could just buy… and I'm going to guess it's over the fact that it's not exactly easy to transfigure diamonds, is it? He's being a menace with Transfiguration again."
Draco preened, unable to help the grin on his face.
"More than a menace I'd say. He tells me it's not technically possible to transfigure something into diamond… not legally at least."
Her jaw dropped immediately, eyes bugging out as they locked onto the crystal once more.
"Wh—he didn't?" She was very taken aback, but he could tell from the gleam in her eye… oh yeah, this was huge news.
Harry Potter… using dark magic?
That was the news of the year, hands down. That he'd made his first step into, ah, less than proper magics as a gesture to Draco was a message worth more than any amount of galleons. It was a message of… 'I see you, you dark snakes—and I not only see you but embrace the way you do things'.
Given the tense conversations they'd had lately, Draco was literally on cloud nine at the gesture, and had been all day since he'd opened it this morning. And not that he cared or that it would change his mind about anything, but the looks his parents had exchanged when they saw it too had been very promising… his father actually looked almost satisfied which really just made the whole thing even better somehow.
Daphne clearly wanted to be disgusted by his smug look but was in too much shock and awe to bother being annoyed.
"You can't wear that to school," The instant she got out of her shock she shut down the idea, and he just sighed.
"No, he warned me about that too and I'm not that stupid. If they're searching for dark objects that might be causing the petrification it'll be caught in no time; I'll leave it home." He allowed.
Even if he couldn't wear it all the time, the gesture was all the mattered to his beating heart and the quietly proud joy it was spreading through his veins.
"Still…" She let out a low whistle, and he could only smirk and nod happily in agreement at the unspoken awe at the development.
"I'll ask you not to go repeating this." He inclined his head.
She raised a brow. "In exchange?"
"I think you've already gotten enough information in return," He challenged right back, pointedly tapping the ear cuff once more. "He didn't just learn this out of nowhere, I did get him a book last year for Yule that he found very interesting."
Daphne's eyes burned as she realized what that meant.
Harry liked Transfiguration but had probably burned through most of Hogwarts' and Diagon's stores by now… and even then, he could absolutely just go buy any book he wanted. That is, so long as that book was legal given how many eyes were on him.
He probably very much wanted books of a… not so legal nature though.
Which meant she had a very good trading ticket with Harry now, in exchange for her silence about what he wanted them for.
"Deal," She offered her hand immediately and Draco took it almost carelessly, very unsurprised that she was satisfied with the agreement.
"Outside of business then, are you enjoying the party?"
Daphne relaxed her manic look for a second to give him a small eye roll, glancing out at the crowd of adults all with much more important things to talk about than their children wandering on the outskirts of the ballroom. "What exactly is there to do here besides business?"
He made a face, unable to deny it but still offended.
"Have a cookie then. Mother imported them."
"I'm sure they're fantastic if Lady Malfoy was the one who got them, but I'm not going to hover over the food." It was far too socially awkward a position for a society that was supposed to appear effortless.
They both just huffed silently and looked out at the party, kind of at a loss now.
The Yule party had always been a huge highlight in Draco's memory. This though was very… stuffy.
He'd spent too much time with Harry.
He'd spent too much time with Gryffindors, actually, but he'd rather die than admit that.
Still… Daphne was the only Slytherin in the football club and by the way she seemed exceptionally subdued and bored from how she normally acted except when they were talking about one lion in particular, implied she maybe had the same issue he did.
It'd be different someday… when they were the adults and all this small talk was about things they cared about and wanted. Right now they were just children though, in a room of a hundred adults snakes (a good portion being death eaters) talking about things far out of their depth for now. This was not the place to talk Hogwarts politics, so they reminded silent and to themselves to get out of the way until dinner where they could at least comment on the delicious food as politeness required.
He and Daphne weren't exactly people who sat together and chatted very often, but even they had things they maybe could've said if they were bored in any other situation. Here though, with so many ears and more-clever snakes…
They exchanged a few other niceties and spoke about absolutely nothing important to while away the rest of the party, while Draco wondered when he'd stopped seeing this as something fun, and started to agree with his absent godfather's opinion on parties.
000
"Moony, where will you go after this?"
Remus blinked and looked down at him, but even if the sudden broaching of the conversation was a surprise, that topic itself wasn't. He didn't make a huge deal of it, for which Harry was thankful, they just kept calmly feeding their new cow friends their cold morning treat from yesterday's dinner left overs.
"They begin tending to the seedlings as early as the end of January I believe, in the greenhouses… but they won't put them into the ground until late March or April. Mr. Benson told me he'll hire on seasonal help around then as well, so I'll need to be out by then." He explained calmly.
"So we won't be back here again." Was the question Harry was really after.
"Probably not… although if my next situation does not last the year perhaps Mr. Benson will let me return for next winter. You never know." Remus was good at staying optimistic, even if Harry was quietly kind of anxious for him.
He did get it though. In order to escape his relatives he'd been willing to live in a cardboard box if it came to that, it literally didn't matter where or what it was so long as he was free. It was also partly the reason he was so unbothered by the fact they were staying in this little shack for the break: it was practically a palace compared to a cupboard or a shed.
It was just… just because he understood how 'anything' was completely fine when you were desperate, didn't mean he wasn't anxious. He hadn't blinked twice when it was him living in a box, but it did stress him out to not know where Moony was going though. To know not even Moony himself knew where he was going brought an uncertainty back to his heart he hadn't felt since he'd been here.
The werewolf seemed to read his mind as he pet the cow nudging at his arms in front of him.
"Harry… please let me worry about the adult things for a bit. My living situation is my living situation, and I've managed so far haven't I? You have a new semester ahead of you, not to mention now you want to take muggle lessons as well, you'll be more than busy enough. Just focus on that for now." He begged.
"Will I be able to visit you this summer?"
"…I don't know." He admitted, and Harry hated that it sounded completely, genuinely honest. Remus himself didn't know where his next job or housing would be, or if it would last an entire summer break if he did get something, so he could promise nothing.
Harry knew it wasn't Remus' fault, so he didn't push or argue even if he really wanted to. He wanted to beg Remus to let him stay here today, much less that he could visit again someday… but neither of them knew if it would even be possible. It had taken so much to just make this holiday happen, it felt like a miracle. That the twins had helped as they had, that Dumbledore hadn't found out about it so far as they knew, that Remus just happened to have a place and was between jobs to have so much time to give him, that there just happened to be no full moon during this Christmas season…
It felt like the stars had aligned, and Harry knew the chances it would again were very, very slim.
But I don't want to go.
Everything about who he was implied admitting that to himself should've been much harder than it was, but it was the painful truth that the one emotion he could not shake or deny right now was that he did not want to go.
It was New Year's Day. Tomorrow Remus would take them back to London and he'd use his cloak to slip back onto the train returning to Hogwarts, and the next day life would continue like it had been at school. This little break of his, where his entire world and troubles and worries about the future just seemed to pause… it would be over.
Remus would go back to being words on the other side of a page, with carefully chosen sentences hiding things from him so that Harry wouldn't ever know where he was or if he was safe from bastard wizards giving him a hard time. He would just have to wonder and know that even if bad things were happening, Remus would never tell him over a letter.
And just god did he not want that to happen.
Hogwarts had once been his safe haven, the place where the world was 'right' and he had the most control over himself and his life. Now it just seemed… exhausting.
The holiday break was supposed to be that—a break—to reenergize you for the coming year but… Harry kind of just felt like this was the first break he'd ever gotten, so being faced with returning to normal life seemed unbelievable tiring. How did he ever even have the energy to do half of what he had before?
A gentle hand came down on his head, pulling him from his thoughts and mindless petting of the large snout in front of him searching for more treats—despite the fact it was all done.
Moony caught his eye, giving a small but genuine smile.
"Don't be sad pup, you never know what the future will bring. I know it seems like an eternity away, but you'll have classes and your friends and all your hobbies to keep you busy, and before you know it we'll have another opportunity. It might not be the same as this one but I look forward to it anyway, don't you?"
"Yeah," he agreed, trying not to be sad on his last day here but unable to help it. "I have a plan for the summer in any case so even if I can't visit you, you have to visit me." He demanded, and Remus smiled.
"If wherever you'll staying will have me, then I'll try." He agreed.
"Oh trust me I'm sure he'll love to see you," Harry boasted, and while the werewolf clearly didn't not fully believe him, he didn't argue. He'd thankfully learned early on that arguing with this extremely strong-willed child was reserved for only hills he was willing to die on as it took far too much effort to bother normally.
After that night when they'd had their real heart-to-heart, they'd talked on an off about more serious things. Unlike in the beginning where it'd pointedly been avoided for fear of bringing the happy mood of the holiday down, once the dam had broken and everything had come spilling out… occasionally they'd touch on harder topics throughout the days, if ever the conversation brought them close enough that it was worth talking about.
Remus now knew all about his relatives.
Every little thing… the cupboard, the chores, the injustice… the magical accident he'd had, the shed…
Remus was lucky it wasn't the first time he'd said it, as he actually did manage to get it out in a much more coherent method than Neville had gotten it. There was still a lot of ugly crying and blubbering words though, to which thankfully Moony didn't so much as blink, like he'd promised.
And actually, the words kept flowing only because Remus then shared his own life back to contribute to the torrent.
The silver for Christmas, the prejudice against werewolves. How he'd been bitten, how his own mother had used a cruciatus instead of admitting to having a werewolf child. His own homelife and desperate want for a 'good' Christmas himself.
And since the topic had already been breeched, he also talked about the people who once made his Christmas worth cherishing. About the Marauders and how they'd known, how they'd helped. About how he used to confide in Sirius on dark nights when everyone else was asleep and one of them woke from a nightmare. About Sirius himself and who he used to be when they were just friends in school together—how he'd fled his own horrid homelife to move in with the Potters the summer before their sixth year.
Whether he meant to or not, Harry also got a full view of the different attitudes towards a similar situation too. How Sirius had always known his self-worth and while never outright admitting his 'weakness' in being a victim, still sought out help from his friends and overcame his situation with James' assistance.
But without him outright saying it Harry also then saw how Remus never did, how he'd never truly asked for help and how he'd never actually escaped his harsh life for a second.
Even when it wasn't his father treating him poorly, it was then the world the moment he graduated. At least in school everyone had been civil and possibly even friendly to him—after he was registered upon graduating everyone but his true friends had stopped talking to him, or at least spat in his direction when they did. Then in one foul swoop he'd lost everyone in the course of a single night.
And then he was still a werewolf, dealing with transformations on his own, alone, with no job or any other connections in the wizarding world other than some of his old teachers… and he refused their pity. It wasn't the same self-belief Sirius once had, it was just… this quiet pride that somehow looked to be the most painful thing Harry had ever seen, from his vantage.
Harry admitted Remus had it hard, far harder than he did with his Dursley problem, but Remus kindly just told him there was no point in comparing hardships. Everyone was fighting their own battle, and just because you might perceive someone else to have it rougher, didn't devalue your own challenges in the slightest.
But still… Harry had a perspective now.
He wasn't the first and he wouldn't be the last with a homelife like the one he had. Despite how ragged he'd been worn this year… at this point he was actually starting to think he wasn't even the worst at handling it so far. There was room for improvement obviously, but the fact he'd actually done something at twelve years old and was on his way out of that situation, even if he was completely fucked up about it, he was still in a better position than some.
The realistic part of himself knew it was because he had inherited a large amount of wealth and a strong Slytherin sense of hunger… anything short of that and there would've been no escaping seeing his relatives again, he knew that.
At this point though, Remus knew.
He knew without saying how much Harry did not want to go, but since there was nothing they could really do about it, there was nothing they could say either.
Because the one other thing Harry had picked up, was that for as willing as Remus was to listen about pretty much everything, he was also not exactly whole either. It wasn't like they just shared their scars with each other and things were perfectly fine now, it wasn't like Remus was calmly explaining his own horror story but 'none of it mattered now' or 'he'd gotten over it' or some bullshit…
No, Remus was broken.
Which was fine because… Harry was pretty fucking broken too, so they were a good match.
But just like Harry knew precisely the topics he could not deal with, he'd also learned which lines made Remus' calm, capable prankster persona completely shatter, almost without the werewolf even realizing it.
The whole 'being a werewolf thing' was a HUGE hurdle to get over, let's be clear on that. Moony seemed to take four business months to actually believe someone would want to be near him and that was not a battle easily won. Once Harry had finally broken through that he really didn't give a shit about his illness, he did seem to relax and was even able to joke about it sometimes… but getting there was a war worth it's own effort.
The second, equally as concerning issue, was Dumbledore.
Despite all they had said to each other, Harry had only tested the waters of implying that he blamed Dumbledore for being placed with his relatives at all… but Remus had a blind spot the size of the moon when it came to the old bastard. It was excuses and excuses and excuses any time Harry tried to get close to an argument about his actions… it was all 'he mean well', 'he's a good man', 'you should trust his judgement' bullshit that Harry had heard from every other die-hard Dumbledore loyalist.
The worst part was that Harry could see the exact reason it had happened, and it was identical to the reason he was with his relatives. Because Dumbledore wanted a pawn and had graciously let Remus into Hogwarts and 'saved him' from his homelife. If Harry weren't almost put in Slytherin then he was absolutely sure he would've fallen for the same fucking trick, as the desperation to get out of the Dursley household already had him doing some insane things… add the carrot and the stick to a Gryffindor mindset, coming from another Gryffindor in a position of power…
Harry bit his tongue because his hatred of the old man had reached a peak it never had been before. The evidence just stacked higher and higher with everything he learned but now knowing what he'd done to Remus…?
Well, Remus was brainwashed. There was no kinder way to put it, because Harry could talk about being locked in a shed and Moony would be there for him, but he for some reason couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that the great man that was Albus Dumbledore might be flawed… much less that he might, in fact, be the bad guy in this situation.
So Harry had tried, but Remus wouldn't hear it.
Not because he didn't want to, not because he didn't care… but for the same reason Harry couldn't really talk to Draco about some stuff, Harry knew Remus was incapable of talking about Dumbledore. They were broken, something was wrong… and Harry had his own issues so he couldn't really hold it against him.
It did put Dumbledore even higher on his list though. He wouldn't get upset with Remus for being brainwashed, that was just misplaced anger… but the headmaster was a dead man the second Harry could figure it out.
He wasn't even surprised by how dark his thoughts had gotten about the man, it had been building for so long. That last little thread he'd been clinging to, his vain grip over the idea he was still a 'good' guy in any situation, finally just snapped when it wasn't just him suffering, but Remus. He did not give a single fuck if it meant he was the bad guy, so long as Dumbledore didn't get away with it.
The best plans took time though, so he bit his tongue and shelved those increasingly twisted day dreams for the time being. He needed to survive the man first, which meant graduating Hogwarts safely, and then he'd see about dethroning the bastard somehow.
Or defenestrating him, maybe.
Either way, both the things he needed to spend now worried about and also the last topic Remus seemed unable to process, were one and the same: Sirius.
Sure, finally Moony had talked about their school days, about who Sirius used to be… about Padfoot. The man had held strong no matter what he'd heard or spoken about, but talking about Sirius had seemed so painful he'd finally cried. Clearly he'd been trying so hard not to in front of his young guest, but in the end he'd failed.
Harry didn't actually know what was going on in Moony's head about him but… whatever it was, it was bad.
Fresh, like it was still the day he'd lost him.
A couple times he'd tried to bring up his innocence but Remus had just…
Well, Harry couldn't bring himself to do that to him. They'd established neither of them thought he was guilty, and that Remus still cared a whole fucking lot about him… but for some reason he couldn't bear to talk more about the topic. It felt like the strong wolf instantly became frail and fractured when faced with the mere idea Sirius was still in Azkaban… and he couldn't handle the thought on top of everything else he was going through.
He was paralyzed.
Harry knew the feeling.
And he wouldn't push since that was the last thing he'd want someone to do to him, but it was bad because the fact he was clearly loyal to Dumbledore and also unable to face Sirius' issue was a horrific combination.
The trial was so close… they just had to hold out and do nothing until Sebastian Greengrass managed to get them to court. If Harry pushed too hard and Remus finally freaked out about Sirius, finally started to mourn him since it seemed he'd spent over a decade refusing to believe his friend had really betrayed him… well, Harry worried.
Worried he go right to Dumbledore, and everything would be ruined.
He could not let that happen, so he said nothing for now. Despite how much he was willing to tell Remus now, no matter if he wanted to tell him about the trial, about what hope there really was for the uncertain future… he couldn't.
He loved Moony to death at this point but he could not risk things now. Not when they were so close.
So he skated around it, and maybe come summer Sirius would be a free man. Harry would go to him once the school year ended instead of a Slytherin household or back to the bloody Dursleys… and Remus would watch it all happen in the papers in shock, and then maybe come to their doorstep the moment Sirius was free and he wouldn't have to worry about where he'd stay or that he wasn't wanted anywhere ever again…
It was an idealistic dream, Harry knew. Reality would be so much uglier—there was no way Fudge or his loyalists would let Sirius go smoothly, no matter if Mr. Greengrass would see it through to the end. Also, they weren't teenagers anymore and there'd been a decade of betrayal and literal inhumane torture between both of them. Despite how much Remus cared and still believed Sirius would be the man he once remembered, Harry had no doubt their reunion would be a huge deal. Maybe it'd be happy, maybe a bit ugly, he was sure there'd be yelling and tears and things but… ultimately it would be good.
It would be so bad, as they figured everything out… and one day soon Remus would learn everything he was up to and would probably be upset with him but… eventually it would be worth it.
He had to believe in that, as it was the only thing forcing him to keep his silence now.
"Come on," Cow feeding done, Remus offered his hand to walk back to the house. Harry took it mainly to help him gets his legs up over the snow drifts as their white Christmas had spilled out into a very snowy new year as well, and the fresh blanket from the previous night came up above his knees making this journey harder than normal.
"They're going to be mad when they don't get scraps tomorrow." He pointed out, referencing the cows behind them, baleful eyes watching them leave and unaware the routine they'd established was ending.
"Well I'll keep feeding them when I have the chance, though it won't be as consistently as these past couple weeks. I'm not sure Mr. Benson is aware of these unapproved snacks in the first place," Moony chuckled.
Harry's curiosity and lack of self-control got the better of him for a second.
"Would wolf-you eat a cow?" He couldn't help but wonder.
Luckily Remus just gave a put upon sigh, no longer alarmed by his rather alarming questions. "I'm sure the wolf would be very interested in a cow, yes, however I do not spend full moons here."
"You don't?"
"I have a place," He was willing to answer but Harry also got the impression he would not be telling him any more detail than that. They had talked about how he chose to lock himself away before, which was not something other werewolves did as it was… unpleasant. He could sense it was more than just 'unpleasant', which meant the fact he'd offered even that bit of information of his own free will during their heart-to-hearts meant a lot, since Remus struggled to share his own issues just like Harry did.
"Has the wolf eaten a lot of things?"
Another sigh.
"Thankfully not… he has gotten several birds and a couple foxes in the past though." He admitted ruefully. Seeing Harry's dramatic expression though he did a double take. "What's wrong!?"
"Nothing, just a bad joke Blaise makes sometimes," He huffed, finding some irony in it. But actually… as they made it back to the path they'd shoveled leading back to the house, thoughts of comparing him and Blaise to foxes and wolves combined with the very picturesque forest around them and how many fairy tales Remus had read him for the past three weeks made him light up.
Particularly because he was wearing the red coat the twins had gifted him.
"Wait a second, I know this fairy tale!"
"What one?"
"Little Red," Harry smirked and Remus actually laughed loudly—finding that very amusing thankfully.
"Oh, and I'm the big bad wolf?"
"On a technicality but I'm pretty sure I'm worse than you," Harry marched back to the house with cheek, Remus just shaking his head as he followed.
"Don't say that pup," He rolled his eyes.
Harry decided to ignore him though, because joke or not it was true.
"Last one back is a rotten egg!" And he took off—though immediately learned racing a werewolf through a forest was a bad idea when he was scooped up and they made it back to the shack in record time, the sound of laughter echoing through the snow-muted forest like bells.