Wot In The Harri Potter?

10 - The Imposters

On Christmas Eve, Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and I drag out our mattresses to camp out in the common room so we can all be together.

I place my mattress next to Draco's, and he shares around sweets so we can have a midnight snack.

I feel like I'm at a real sleepover and I cannot sleep for the anticipation of waking up with friends on Christmas morning.

"What are your Christmases like at home?" I whisper to Draco over the loud snores of Crabbe and Goyle.

He turns his head to look at me, his grey eyes twinkling as they catch the light of the dying fire.

"Boring, to be honest," he says quietly, "I've never spent it like this before, with friends."

I feel sad for him because at least even I had Dudley - although he was never allowed to display anything but deep contempt towards me in front of Vernon and Petunia.

"I bet you get lots of presents," I say.

His smirk says it all. But then his face immediately falls. "Not the same as having friends, though."

And then he reaches out, his fingertips touching the back of my hand.

I do not hesitate to turn my hand over and entwine my fingers with his. We share a smile, our hands still clasped together.

We must have fallen asleep like that, because the next thing I know it's morning, Draco's fingers still entwined with mine.

*****

After opening our many presents, the four of us go up for breakfast, and we are shocked and delighted to see it has snowed in the night.

"Best. Christmas. Ever!" Draco laughs as - later that morning - he chucks a snowball in my face.

We spend all day out in the white grounds, building snow-wizards and making snow angels. At one point, Hagrid even brought out some sledges he keeps in his hut for us to play on.

"Doesn't beat flying though." Draco drawls after I beat him at a race to the bottom of a large snowy, slope.

I, however, beg to differ.

"I'm surprised Ron isn't out here," I observe, scanning the deserted grounds around us. "Thought it would be right up his street."

"Granger's probably got him studying or some shit." Draco snickers. "Poor git."

Eventually, when we can no longer feel our fingers or toes, we trudge back to the castle, hungry after our snowy activities.

Christmas dinner at Hogwarts is nothing like what I used to have at the Dursleys (half a burnt roast potato and a carrot which I was only permitted to eat once everyone else had finished the turkey and all the pots and pans were scrubbed clean).

I stuff myself with tender turkey, succulent sausages and resplendent roasties. I savour each brussel sprout, enjoy every sweet sip of pumpkin juice and wipe my plate clean with a sweep of warm bread, soaking it in rich gravy.

By the time we are finished, I am fit to burst.

"I am never eating again," I mutter as Draco and I make our way down to the dungeons. "What was I thinking - having seconds of Christmas pudding? I swear I've just gone up two dress sizes."

Draco stops at the bottom of the stairs to look me up and down. "You look alright to me. Besides, you were always too skinny to begin with."

"I wasn't actually asking for your opinion," I say, wrapping my cloak around me selfconsciouly, "but thanks... I think?"