warning

slash implied here. I told you. now take your choices.

author's notes at the end.

disclaimer

characters and general situations belong to J.K Rowling & Co.

my eternal gratitude belongs to Andrea for the betaing.

present situations... well, they belong to me.

Puppet Theatre

Scene 01

In which the winter break begins, Draco Malfoy is not so delightfully surprised, Blaise Zabini makes interesting readings and Harry Potter unwillingly shows off. As usual.

There were several things that Draco Malfoy couldn't stand. They made a considerably long list, which included, in the first positions, Potter and-the-Magically-Stupid-Trio, being told what to do, wet wool on bare skin, rebel hair on rainy days and Gret-Aunt-Lucretia's perfume. Now, there was only one other thing in the world that had earned a special place in "Draco's Personal Top Ten of Hate and Despise".

Surprises. Draco Malfoy couldn't stand surprises.

The reasons and the explanations for this uncommon allergic reaction were numerous and multi-faced. A deep analyst would take notice of his Slytherin vein, of his intoxicating need to feel power and of a certain Malfoyan predisposition, maybe due to a strong hereditary trait.

Anyway. Draco Malfoy couldn't stand surprises. Really.

And so, it was to be considered just a very unfortunate circumstance the one that led an unexpected letter to land on his breakfast on the frosty morning of the day in which Hogwarts' students were leaving for the winter break.

Draco gave a questioning look to the suspicious envelope. It was marked with his family seal but he picked it up with the same caution he would have reserved for a lethal snake. And this reserve, which an observer could have easily judged excessive, was soon reasonably confirmed by the sudden disappearance of the owl that had delivered the message, fact which sounded, more or less, as a "whatever is written in it, your opinion is not important so don't bother answering".

Draco sighed and, with this bitter consideration, eventually broke the wax seal and unfolded the expensive parchment.

He scanned it quickly, narrowing his eyes at every line. By the end of the letter they were just two dangerously angry silver slits, a clear sign that the content of the message hadn't been welcomed.

Draco,

Due to sudden engagements, what was previously planned for this winter break is to be considered cancelled. You are expected to remain at Hogwarts.

Your mother sends her best wishes and hopes for you to have a good time all the same.

Lucius

Slowly, maybe too slowly, Draco refolded the letter. He replaced it neatly into its envelope. He leaned back against his seat. And he quickly considered the facts.

His father had just succeeded in surprising him and ordering him around.

Since there was nothing he could do about it, he glared at his untouched breakfast, in a way that was enough to make the poor thing burst into flames.

Cynically, he wondered what else he had to expect from that unfortunate morning and, more important, what the hell he was supposed to do now.

Draco hadn't exactly asked who was going to stay during the break. Of course he was focused on his holidays. And anyway, why should have he given a damn about what others were going to do?

There was no reason.

But now, thinking about it, he was pretty sure that he was going to be the only Slytherin sixth year left to haunt the practically deserted Hogwarts for the next weeks. And this couldn't be considered an alluring perspective.

While his annoyed reasoning began to move in the direction of endlessly inwardly muttered curses, Draco glanced at the Gryffindor table. There, right in front of him, sat his nemesis, the famous Harry Potter who was happily and busily eating his breakfast and chattering with his friends, just as the fact of being left in Hogwarts alone, as happened every year, couldn't bother him at all.

Draco felt a sudden irrational rage filling him. How dare Potter smile and laugh while being in the same situation as him who, instead, was going to explode in frustration?

Draco got up, feeling that there was no reason to stay in the Great Hall further, since jumping on the Gryffindor table and making Potter as sorry as he was wasn't an option to consider.

His mood was completely ruined. As his coming Winter Break. As his breakfast.

Thanks to his father. And thanks to Potter too. It was always Potter's fault, wasn't it?

So, Draco stalked out of the Great Hall with a vicious "fuck you both" consideration crossing his mind.

This earned him few curious glances from his mates and from the Gryffindors. But well, he was too pissed off to notice or to care.

***

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

Harry Potter nodded, since he was too busy swallowing a bit of his muffin.

"Are you really sure you're going to be okay?"

He nodded again, more firmly.

"Are you really..."

Hermione Granger stopped her interrogation to pat her friend on the back, who was choking on his breakfast.

"I am sure I am going to be okay," he answered as soon as he managed to regain his breath. And this earned him a sceptical glance from the young witch. He narrowed his eyes, annoyed. "As I am sure that I'll go mad if you keep repeating the same sentence over and over again. Or I'll choke on my pumpkin juice, at least," he muttered darkly, taking a sip of orange liquid from his glass.

For a while Hermione looked away uncomfortably. But soon she began again, undeterred.

"Sorry, Harry, but look, we are worried. We..."

Harry let go of his glass and sighed.

"Listen, Hermione," he began. "The worst that can happen to me during this winter break is an attempted suicide from boredom..." he continued.

And immediately regretted it.

Hermione was staring at him with wide eyes.

Harry sighed deeper and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, trying to prevent a nasty coming headache.

"Herm, I think Harry was joking," Ron Weasley interjected for the first time since the conversation had begun. Until that point the apple pie settled in front of him had appeared to be more important than his best friends' talk. But now Harry really seemed to be in trouble. Hermione could be very stubborn when she wanted to. And as confirm of this, as soon as he had finished his cautious note, she turned to glare at him angrily.

"But it could be true," she objected. "I mean, he'll be all alone and... Oh Ron, you don't understand. I really think we should stay," she finished.

At this, Ron could do nothing more that join Harry's dejected sighing.

"I really think you should stop this, instead. I was joking and I'll be perfectly fine and now you two should hurry up. The carriages are already outside and you still have to take your trunks down in the hall," Harry replied seriously. "Really, I would have never thought about such an irresponsible behaviour from a Hogwarts' prefect," he added, smirking, causing Ron to shake his head amusedly and Hermione to frown worriedly.

"Well, maybe we should go, then," she murmured as the implications in Harry's words took shape in her mind. "Ron. Leave that cake. It's the fourth piece and you're going to be sick," she said sternly.

Ron gave a sad look to his half full plate but got up. He decided he'd better not push things with such an oversensitive witch.

Harry smiled. Since Hermione and Ron had decided to visit Charlie during the winter break she had been impossibly nervous at the thought of leaving Harry alone. Now he was almost worried for Ron. Surely the holiday he had planned wasn't going to be as he had expected. Not with Hermione in that state.

"We will write everyday," Hermione assured hugging her friend while Harry mouthed a hearted thank you to Ron over her shoulder.

"Just try to have a nice time," he replied.

Ron nodded gloomily and hugged his friend.

"See you soon, Harry," he said sighing.

"Harry, I hope you just..."

"Hermione," he prevented her. "You are late," he pointed out, tilting his head towards the hall and the students who were gathering there already.

Hermione frowned one last time before finally relaxing and smiling softly.

"Alright. See you soon."

Harry smiled back. He watched his friends leave to take their baggage. Then, getting ahead of the other students, he exited Hogwarts' hall and went outside, his hands in his pocket, the smile still on his lips.

***

Draco spat out the password with less grace than usual and entered the common room.

The empty common room that, even when full of Slytherins, couldn't be exactly defined as, well, homely.

But now it was definitely depressing.

Draco groaned inwardly and headed towards the sixth year's dormitory in order to escape that desolation and the not so lovely thoughts towards his father.

Walking through the Hogwarts' hall he had had this idea about getting in bed and getting up only when the snow outside began to melt. And now, the short visit to the common room had led him to believe that, after all, it was the only thing he could do at this point. As Draco headed towards his bed he almost missed the only other presence in the room.

"Zabini?" He wondered aloud, stopping midway and turning to watch puzzled at the other boy.

Blaise Zabini was sitting on his bed, his legs crossed and a big dusty book on his lap.

"That's me, Draco," he answered plainly, without even raising his gaze.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked.

This time Blaise raised his head and swept a lock of dark hair from his eyes. He looked at Draco, blankly. "I'm reading."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, sure. I know that. I mean, aren't you leaving?"

"No. I signed to stay," Blaise answer shortly. "And you? I thought you were,"

Draco shook his head, snorting. "No more. My father changed his mind at the very last moment."

At this, Blaise said nothing but gave him a strange small smile before resuming his reading.

"It must be interesting stuff," Draco pointed out sarcastically, considering the lack of conversational dedication coming from Blaise.

"It is," Blaise answered, confirming Draco's opinion. He moved his book slightly so that Draco could read the title.

Formal Analysis in Composition of Complex Charms.

Draco frowned thoughtfully. "I don't remember it being on the schedule," he said.

"It isn't," Blaise said shrugging. "Let's call it a personal project," he added cryptically, bending his lips in that strange smile of his once again.

For a moment Draco looked at him slightly confused. Usually he spent enough time socializing with his mates. Not that he liked it, but, due to his high, better, vertiginous position in the hierarchic scale of the Slytherin Realm, he had to keep up the appearances. But about Blaise, Draco was pretty sure they hadn't talked much. Surely no more than five minutes. Since the beginning of the sixth year.

Well, now he began to understand why. Blaise wasn't proving himself to be exactly prolix, let alone comprehensible.

Finally, Draco shook his head. He had more important problems right now for worrying about Blaise's silences. For example, finding another way to spend the winter break without dying of boredom, since the sleeping idea was going to be momentarily set aside.

"Well. My project right now is going out and flying a bit," he drawled, leaving the room. "See you later."

Blaise didn't answer. Again. He was already deep into his reading. Again.

***

Harry didn't feel the cold. He flew higher as snowflakes began to fall all around him, holding tighter to his Firebolt as he sharply turned around a tower. And there they were. The carriages, filled up, ready to leave. He dived then, drawing a perfect clean line in the frosty air. He was flying two meters from the ground now, but his speed was just the same. He zigzagged smoothly between the carriages until he reached the third one, around which he began to draw quick circles.

Inside the carriage, Hermione blinked. For a while she had believed that she saw Harry outside her window. She shook her head, trying to cancel the disturbing image and telling herself that she had really exaggerated in worrying that way about her friend. She was beginning to see Harry everywhere.

"Herm? Are you alright?" Ron asked, frowning at that strange behaviour.

"Yeah. I just thought seeing -" she began, trailing off as Harry appeared again. Smiling and waving his hand. "- Harry."

Ron look at her warily for a moment before bursting out laughing. Hermione sighed. Harry, instead, flew around the carriage once more. Then, when it began to move he rose and stood there, hovering in the air, a small dark figure outlined on a snowy Hogwarts' background.

Hermione and Ron looked at him until the carriage turned around and Harry disappeared.

For a while since that moment, the journey went on silently.

***

Draco's broom lay abandoned in the snow. His owner was not so far away, also as an object abandoned in the snow. He stood still, freezing, angrily blinking snowflakes out of his eyes, watching Harry Potter putting up that little show of his.

Well, the boy could really fly.

But as Draco's brain registered this fact, his blood began to boil. He had observed the whole scene as paralysed. When the carriages had disappeared, Potter had stayed a bit longer, suspended in mid air. Draco would have never admitted, but for a long while he had wondered what the Golden Boy could be thinking up there, all alone now that his friends had left him behind. But then Harry moved to come down and Draco had snapped out of his shameful reverie. He gathered his broom and quickly headed back inside, blindly reaching his dormitory again.

This time Blaise seemed to be a bit more interested about the other occupant of the room. Maybe it was the way Draco had slammed the door behind him that had attracted his attention.

Strangely enough, it was Blaise who broke the silence that matched perfectly with the icy weather.

"I thought you were flying."

Draco didn't answer. He threw himself on his bed and crossed his arms behind his head. Blaise closed his book with a soft thump and got up. Calmly. He stirred graciously and walked to Draco's bed without haste.

"What's wrong?" He asked flatly and Draco glared at him because of his not so subtle intrusion.

Anyway, his irritation didn't stop him from bitching about Harry Potter. Potter-bitching was a relaxing activity. And it always worked. Draco almost felt like he owned the Gryffindor a little present for being so damn reliable, even if only in being hated. Maybe a Magical Singing Card.

To Harry Fucking Potter,

For his natural talent in being despised and pitied.

With undying hate,

Draco Malfoy

Though the idea made him smile inwardly, he answered Blaise with the viciousness expressly reserved for the Golden Boy.

"Potter," he spat out angrily. "Harry fucking Potter," he repeated. "Showing off on his Firebolt. Now Hogwarts has an official jester," he pointed out with bitter sarcasm.

"Don't think about it," Blaise said, dismissively, but Draco wasn't really listening. The more he thought about Potter, the more he got angry.

"I hate him," he muttered, staring at the ceiling and missing a certain shadow darkening Blaise's blue eyes.

"Oh, well then. Think about it," he replied with strange lightness. "And do something about it," he added after a while, as an afterthought.

Draco frowned and turned to look at him. "What are you trying to say?" He asked suspiciously.

But at that Blaise simply smirked.

***

To Be Continued

in Scene 02

In which Hogwarts is empty, Blaise does an alluring proposition, Draco is forced to wear jewellery that doesn't suit his complexion, Snape warns that he won't clean the mess, and Harry drinks something. Something he shouldn't.