Make Yourself at Home (H/D, G)
Christmas Gift Drabble #23:
Author: sesheta_66
Giftee: accioscar
Prompt(s): lyrics of Happy Christmas by John Lennon
Title: Make Yourself at Home
Rating: G
Word Count: 658
Pairings/Characters: Harry, Draco
Other prompts: 100_prompts: 058 - "Tragic"
Disclaimer: The author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country. The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
To see all Christmas drabbles, click here.
The war is over, Harry had to keep reminding himself. It's over. It seemed almost surreal. Ever since he'd been eleven years old, the threat of Voldemort had been looming in the background, and sometimes not so far back. But now it was over. They could move on with their lives.
They'd buried the dead, memorialized those whose bodies tragically could not be retrieved, and honoured everyone involved in the downfall of Voldemort. The wizarding world was rebuilding the Ministry, sorting out the good from the bad, restructuring it as only government organizations could do, and Hogwarts was being restored. Perhaps it would never return to its former glory, but they were trying just the same.
Post-war. December. Hogwarts Reopens.
"A merry merry Christmas ... And a happy New Year ... Let's hope it's a good one ... Without any fear ... War is over, if you want it ... War is over now"
Harry mulled the words of the Muggle song over and over again in his head. Without any fear. What exactly did it mean to live without any fear? He wasn't so sure he knew.
Walking towards the castle, Harry's stomach lurched. Memories flooded him. This wasn't the first time he'd returned, but it was the first time as a student. He was moving in again, to complete his final NEWT year. He'd considered not bothering, but Hermione's badgering and his own inability to come up with something better to pass his time led him to the decision to return. After all, the war was over. He was a wizard, and would likely live well past one hundred. What was one more year in the grand scheme of things? Besides, this was the only real home he'd ever known. If he was honest with himself, he was looking forward to returning.
When he entered the Great Hall, there were a couple dozen students seated at their house tables already, apparently opting, as Harry had done, not to take the Hogwarts Express. He hadn't wanted to be stared at and talked about during the trip, and he could legally Apparate now, so that's exactly what he'd done. He Apparated to Hogsmeade, and walked up to the castle alone. It was a good feeling, no matter how strange. He figured it was less strange, after the last year, than reverting back to the train ride.
Amongst those at the tables was a familiar blonde head. Malfoy? What was he doing there? He'd been to school last year. Harry thought about it and realized that in all likelihood, he hadn't received much of an education at the hands of those in charge, with the exception of the Dark Arts. Narcissa had probably urged him to return, as Hermione had urged Harry.
He made the decision without thought. Seeing no one at the Gryffindor table from his year, he made straight for the Slytherin table. Without any fear.
"Malfoy."
"Potter."
"Mother insist you come back?"
"Granger insist you do?"
The two exchanged a look, and Harry saw Malfoy's lip twitch. It was all he needed to burst into laughter. Malfoy joined in almost immediately.
"So ..." Harry said.
"So."
"It's over."
"Very observant of you, Potter."
"But it never really will be, will it?" Harry suggested, thinking of his nightmares.
"Not for us, I don't think," Malfoy agreed. Harry knew that Malfoy must have nightmares of his own.
"We can move ahead, though. Maybe start over."
"Can we? Can we really?" Malfoy's tone had a hint of desperation to it.
"I'd like to think so." Harry held out his hand. "Name's Harry. Harry Potter."
Malfoy took it. "Draco Malfoy."
"Nice to meet you, Draco."
Harry sat down at the table with Draco, who raised an eyebrow.
"Did I ever tell you that the sorting hat tried to put me in Slytherin?"
Draco's look of surprise was replaced with a smile. "Well, then. Make yourself at home ... Harry."
.
Author: sesheta_66
Giftee: accioscar
Prompt(s): lyrics of Happy Christmas by John Lennon
Title: Make Yourself at Home
Rating: G
Word Count: 658
Pairings/Characters: Harry, Draco
Other prompts: 100_prompts: 058 - "Tragic"
Disclaimer: The author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country. The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
To see all Christmas drabbles, click here.
The war is over, Harry had to keep reminding himself. It's over. It seemed almost surreal. Ever since he'd been eleven years old, the threat of Voldemort had been looming in the background, and sometimes not so far back. But now it was over. They could move on with their lives.
They'd buried the dead, memorialized those whose bodies tragically could not be retrieved, and honoured everyone involved in the downfall of Voldemort. The wizarding world was rebuilding the Ministry, sorting out the good from the bad, restructuring it as only government organizations could do, and Hogwarts was being restored. Perhaps it would never return to its former glory, but they were trying just the same.
Post-war. December. Hogwarts Reopens.
"A merry merry Christmas ... And a happy New Year ... Let's hope it's a good one ... Without any fear ... War is over, if you want it ... War is over now"
Harry mulled the words of the Muggle song over and over again in his head. Without any fear. What exactly did it mean to live without any fear? He wasn't so sure he knew.
Walking towards the castle, Harry's stomach lurched. Memories flooded him. This wasn't the first time he'd returned, but it was the first time as a student. He was moving in again, to complete his final NEWT year. He'd considered not bothering, but Hermione's badgering and his own inability to come up with something better to pass his time led him to the decision to return. After all, the war was over. He was a wizard, and would likely live well past one hundred. What was one more year in the grand scheme of things? Besides, this was the only real home he'd ever known. If he was honest with himself, he was looking forward to returning.
When he entered the Great Hall, there were a couple dozen students seated at their house tables already, apparently opting, as Harry had done, not to take the Hogwarts Express. He hadn't wanted to be stared at and talked about during the trip, and he could legally Apparate now, so that's exactly what he'd done. He Apparated to Hogsmeade, and walked up to the castle alone. It was a good feeling, no matter how strange. He figured it was less strange, after the last year, than reverting back to the train ride.
Amongst those at the tables was a familiar blonde head. Malfoy? What was he doing there? He'd been to school last year. Harry thought about it and realized that in all likelihood, he hadn't received much of an education at the hands of those in charge, with the exception of the Dark Arts. Narcissa had probably urged him to return, as Hermione had urged Harry.
He made the decision without thought. Seeing no one at the Gryffindor table from his year, he made straight for the Slytherin table. Without any fear.
"Malfoy."
"Potter."
"Mother insist you come back?"
"Granger insist you do?"
The two exchanged a look, and Harry saw Malfoy's lip twitch. It was all he needed to burst into laughter. Malfoy joined in almost immediately.
"So ..." Harry said.
"So."
"It's over."
"Very observant of you, Potter."
"But it never really will be, will it?" Harry suggested, thinking of his nightmares.
"Not for us, I don't think," Malfoy agreed. Harry knew that Malfoy must have nightmares of his own.
"We can move ahead, though. Maybe start over."
"Can we? Can we really?" Malfoy's tone had a hint of desperation to it.
"I'd like to think so." Harry held out his hand. "Name's Harry. Harry Potter."
Malfoy took it. "Draco Malfoy."
"Nice to meet you, Draco."
Harry sat down at the table with Draco, who raised an eyebrow.
"Did I ever tell you that the sorting hat tried to put me in Slytherin?"
Draco's look of surprise was replaced with a smile. "Well, then. Make yourself at home ... Harry."
.