Chapter Text
Harry had never been kissed before. He found himself responding automatically, leaning into Draco’s warm mouth, overwhelmed by the shivers that fluttered over his skin. He felt safe, and loved, and the abyss that had consumed his heart seemed to begin to fill.
As if sensing that change, he paused to open his eyes a crack, and realising that their environment had warped dramatically around him, he broke away with an unwelcome gasp.
The blackness had vanished. Instead of the sandy floor, they were now sat on a plush sofa in a circular room furnished with a number of other couches and armchairs. A fire crackled merrily in a hearth nestled into a stone wall to Harry’s left, several windows showed the starry night sky beyond, and hanging from the walls were a number of banners and tapestries depicting the Gryffindor and Slytherin houses…
It was almost like they were in the joint Eighth Year common room…
Harry stumbled to his feet, practically tripping over a foot stool as he goggled at Malfoy, who was equally confused as to what had just happened.
But not, Harry suspect, and thrown as he was.
“What the hell!” he cried with a horror that just seemed to keep washing over him afresh every second or so as he pieced together what was going on.
He was Harry Potter. He had been beginning to enjoy a normal life back at school after a year chasing after Voldemort’s Horcruxes and enduring the Battle of Hogwarts. He had followed Malfoy out after he had fled the Halloween feast, concerned about his wellbeing after once again becoming besotted with the damn fool.
He was also Harry Potter, elf of the Christmas Land workshop, who apparently had no trouble bursting into song, and telling every bugger who would listen that he was in love with Draco bloody Malfoy. “Merlin’s Beard,” he breathed, wanting to curse a lot more than that, but feeling unable to recall anything expletive enough at that precise moment. “What’s happening Malfoy?”
He didn’t really need to ask. He suddenly remembered everything; like a door had been opened and the light allowed to just flood right in. How could he have forgotten his real life? Eighteen whole years, almost wiped out in a blink of an eye. He felt sick.
Malfoy had told him, in the square in International Women’s Land, but it had seemed so preposterous. His Christmas life had seemed so real. He had been so nearly taken in by a cruel trick…and Malfoy’s kiss had snapped him out of it.
“Harry?” Malfoy asked tentatively, getting to his feet. “Do you…recognise me? Do you remember?”
Harry spluttered, more at the shock of hearing his first name from Malfoy’s lips than anything else. “Yes – you’re Draco bloody Malfoy, and I’ve spent the whole day in some kind of weird and wacky land of holidays thinking I’m an elf – an elf!”
Malfoy looked pained. “Yeah,” he said softly. “That’s about the gist of it.”
Harry swallowed, not quite able to meet his eye, but doing a good job of staring just a few inches off of his right earlobe. “And you kissed me, and that snapped me out of it?”
Malfoy sighed. “It appears so,” he mumbled dejectedly. “Look, Harry, this doesn’t have to be a big deal, we can just go now and get out of this place, then talk about it later.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Or not, you know, whatever.”
There is was again, that ‘Harry’ business. “You’ve been searching for me,” Harry said, sifting through his thoughts aloud. “You could have left, but you came and found me instead.”
“So?” Draco snapped, hugging himself. It was only then that Harry realised their clothes had shifted. They were both back in their school uniforms, minus the robes, which was a little odd as Eighth Years didn’t wear uniforms. But there they were; grey trousers, white shirts and Gryffindor and Slytherin ties respectively. Harry lamented the loss of the pirate outfit Draco had been sporting previously…and at that he had to take a step back both physically and mentally.
He’d realised he wasn’t exactly straight in the past couple of years, having had time to analyse a couple of certain crushes, but his groin actually clenched at the thought of Malfoy in those tight black trousers and his shirt hanging unapologetically undone halfway done his chest.
Without all his baggage dragging him down, Harry had woken up this morning unabashedly in love with his schoolboy nemeses. He was weak at the knees to think of him as a swashbuckling buccaneer, but even more so when he knew that he had fought his way through several lands, against the odds, to come and rescue him.
“So,” said Harry quietly, his stomach churning as he took a step closer to him across the room. “I think we need to maybe talk.”
“About what?” Draco asked uncomfortably.
Harry’s heart was slamming into his ribcage, but after having his mind played with, it suddenly seemed incredibly important to be honest. “About how we feel about each other.”
Malfoy audibly gulped and stepped away, his jaw set. “We haven’t got time for this Potter,” he rasped, jutting his chin at the grandfather clock stood in the corner that read twenty past eleven. “Let’s just-”
“Harry,” he whispered.
Malfoy heard him though. “What?”
He swallowed. “I like…it’s nice to hear you call me Harry.”
Malfoy looked stunned. “Really?” Harry nodded. “Does that mean I’m…” His cheeks flushed, but he coughed, frowned and ploughed ahead. “Am I Draco in that case?”
Harry looked at him. He was so different to the child he had fought with, and now he had his memories back he knew he’d been feeling that way for quite some time. He wasn’t perfect, he had a lot of issues that was sure, and even in their fledgling friendship Harry knew they had a great deal to work through. But there was no denying how he felt.
“Yeah,” he said weakly, risking inching another step closer. “You’re Draco.”
The silence built between them, and Harry struggled of how to move forward. But eventually Malfoy – Draco – shoved his hands into his pockets and seemed to rally himself. “You had a lot to say about me when you were an elf, or, so I heard.”
He was adorably pink again, and Harry’s heart swelled. “You did, huh?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “It’s fine, I know Christmas Land makes everyone cuckoo. Let’s just forget about it, alright?”
Harry licked his lips, catching his eye and not letting it drop. “I can’t say now what it really means,” Harry said, searching for the best words, which wasn’t easy. “But…I guess that was something, I don’t know, pure? That my new personality tapped into?”
Draco rubbed his arm. “Pure?”
Harry sighed. “We have a lot of history, Draco,” he said, getting used to saying the name. “But, it seems like, sifting through all the conflicting memories, all those things I said were perhaps something I…wanted?”
Draco’s face lit up with hope, and Harry couldn’t deny the swoop of pleasure that gave him. It looked like he wrestled with himself for a moment, then he took a step closer to him, bringing them within a few feet of each other. “It would be something I might…uh…might want too,” he managed to utter. He looked terrified, and Harry felt the need to step forward and take his hand in reassurance.
So he did.
“You came for me,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t, I mean, I guess I’m surprised?”
Draco chewed his lower lip, pulling it in a way that made Harry want to growl and take over the task immediately. Draco then shook his head sadly though. “I’m selfish,” he said. “I didn’t do it because it’s ‘the right thing’ or whatever.” He scrubbed his face, then looked up at Harry again. “I did it because I almost lost you during the battle, and I couldn’t bear to face life without you again.”
Something in Harry broke. He flung his arms around Draco’s neck and back, dragging him close and pressing their bodies together in a way that felt unnervingly natural. Draco was a few inches taller than him, but Harry felt perfect as he tucked into his side. “Thank you.”
Draco had said something about needing to leave and running out of time, but Harry couldn’t seem to help himself as he drew back, searching those silvery eyes again, and cautiously drew their lips together once more.
His was kissing Draco Malfoy.
He now knew that hadn’t been his first kiss at all earlier, he’d shared plenty with Cho and Ginny before. But this was different. It was rougher for a start; Draco had a day’s worth of stubble that scratched deliciously against his jaw, and there was a desperation to it, the way their hands grappled at each other’s backs like the moment could slip away at any second.
They had always had this friction between them, he supposed. But if he’d told his past self this is where it would have led to, he wouldn’t have believed it in a million years. “What a day?” he half mumbled, half laughed as he pulled away to look at Draco again, his fingers carding through his impossibly soft hair.
“You can say that again,” Draco replied. He looked like he was mesmerised by Harry, his eyes darting back and forth as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, his voice strained and his fingers clinging to the back of Harry’s shirt. “I mean, I wasn’t even sure we were friends, let alone that you might be…gay, or…interested.”
Harry had to admit he quite liked this shy, tentative version of Draco. He smiled at his stammered words. “I think we were on our way to being friends,” he said truthfully. “And, I think I might be bi.”
Draco huffed out a laugh, and rested their foreheads together. “I think I can work with that.”
A slow clap rang through the air, grabbing their attention as they both snapped their heads to the door of the common room.
“Well isn’t this sweet?”
Harry’s insides plummeted.
They had been so wrapped up in each other, they hadn’t realised they were being crept up on. At least a dozen skeletons of the HSP had materialised in the common room, and at their centre was a tall, slender man in a butcher’s apron, a meat cleaver in his hand and a blood-chilling smile on his pale, thin lips.
Harry didn’t have a chance to react, as Draco pushed in front of him protectively. They both twitched instinctively for their wands, but whilst this dream-like level might have given them school uniforms, it had sadly failed to equip them with any sort of weapon. Even Draco’s sword would have been an advantage now, as he certainly knew how to use it, but as it was they were left empty handed as they backed further into the common room, watching as more and more armed HSP filled in to surround them.
“Leave us alone,” Draco snapped at the butcher, his hands groping blinding to make sure Harry was still behind him. He was astonished by uncharacteristic bravery, and might have said something if he wasn’t processing how screwed they really were, looking around desperately to see if there was any sort of escape. There were windows they could break, and also the corridor behind them that led to the dormitories, but that was a dead end in the real world, so Harry wasn’t sure what they should expect from this reconstruction. Instead, he took Draco’s hand to show he was still there, and stood with his chest to his back in encouragement, looking around his shoulder. “We only want to go home. You can have your Halloween Land and whatever else. Just…let us go.”
The butcher smiled widely, and a chill ran up Harry’s spine. His apron was practically dripping with blood, and Harry was under no illusion what he could probably do with the cleaver shining in his hand. “Nobody leaves,” said the butcher gleefully. “Not even you.” He shook his head and moved closer, the firelight dancing on his sunken cheekbones and casting shadows that gouged his face. “That mutt normally sneaks people out the backdoor, he thinks he’s clever you see. But you, you he took all around the houses. I couldn’t fathom why. And now-” He leered sickeningly at Harry. “Now I do.”
“What difference does it make to you?” Draco fired back. Harry was feeling at a disadvantage, not understanding who this man was. But he was apparently trying to keep them from leaving, and Draco’s comments about running out of time came to mind again. “We remember who we are, we’re not like your other ignorant subjects who don’t have a choice. We do, and we’re going back to the Living Land!”
The butcher tilted his head, like they were interesting specimens on a chopping board. “You won’t remember anything once the clock strikes twelve, or didn’t my annoying little pest tell you that?” Draco shifted uncomfortably, and the butcher’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, he did,” he said softly, and with delight. “So, we shall just wait here in that case. You and you little love can watch the minutes tick by, until – ding!” He splayed his long fingers out like fireworks. “You’ll forget all about this, and we can set the world to its natural order again.”
“We’ll forget?” rasped Harry. Draco looked over his shoulder, and nodded hopelessly.
“We won’t even know the other exists, we’ll go back to the lives they programmed for us this morning.”
“But,” said Harry hopefully, shooting a defiant glare at the butcher. “I remembered you this morning, I went looking for you!”
Draco though, shook his head sadly, turning to cup Harry’s cheek. “We have until midnight on the first day to remember and leave. After that, our old lives will be gone forever. We might as well be dead.”
The butcher laughed mirthlessly, walking towards them as Harry’s heart turned to ice. “Oh come, come now Your Highness, no need to be so bleak. You’ll still be living your lives.” He leaned in, his breath hot and sour. “They’ll just be the lives I want you to live. My little puppets.”
Harry couldn’t help it; despite Draco’s cry not to, he saw red. How could they be so close to going back home, only to be thwarted at the last moment by someone purely for his own amusement? This was their lives he was joking about!
Harry lunged for him, which was possibly one of the stupidest ideas he had ever had. Within a split second the butcher had him by the neck, his back pressed against his bloody apron in a parody of the comforting pose he’d just been holding with Draco. Except now, he had an enormous knife held up to his throat.
“NO!” Draco shouted, panic all over his face as he held his hands up in surrender. “No, please don’t hurt him.”
The butcher grinned, making Harry flinch. “Oh I won’t,” he said ominously. “So long as you sit there like a good little prince, and watch the clock tick down. Once you forget everything, I’ll let him skip on off back to Christmas Land, and we can take a nice walk back to Halloween.” He pressed the blade closer to Harry’s jugular, and he gasped at the prick against his flesh and the warm droplet of blood that fell. “The only question is, do I let you trot off back to mummy queen in the palace none-the-wiser, or, do I put you in my special dungeon, see how long it will take me to strip you apart, piece by piece, and turn you into one of my creations?”
He indicated the skeletons surrounding them, and the whole of Harry’s insides twisted. “No,” he stammered and struggled to pull free. “No, let him live, don’t torture him, don’t make him one of those things!”
The butcher laughed again, amused by Harry’s terror, and he flicked the tip of the blade in Draco’s direction. “Here’s your choice. We stay like this, your elf at the end of my knife, as we say goodbye to your old lives at the stroke of twelve, then you can go live your life as a prince, the way you would have if you had never meddled in my affairs. Or,” he hissed in pleasure, and Harry dreaded what was coming. “I release him. You can go to your fate knowing you had the chance to embrace for your final minutes, comfort each other one last time. But then, your flesh is mine.”
Draco’s hands were trembling, and his jaw clenched, but Harry could see the decision in his tear-filled eyes as he came to it. “NO!” he screamed, flailing to get free again, no matter how useless it was. The butcher’s grip was inhumanly strong and he had the knife back at his throat again. “No Draco, it’s not worth it-!”
“Let him go,” he said clearly, looking at the butcher. “And then you can do whatever you want with me after.”
Harry was pushed forwards and he stumbled right into Draco’s arms. “No, Draco, no,” he begged, trying to pull away, to go back to the butcher. “You won’t even remember why he’s torturing you, he’s going to make you a mindless skeleton. Let me go!”
Draco held him fast though. “Harry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ll never get the chance to kiss you again. That’s all I’ve wanted, for so long. I messed up so much of our time together. The least I can do is end it right.”
Harry could feel the tears streaming down his face as he seized Draco and kissed him with everything he had. Fine, he thought stubbornly. But now he was free, he was going to find something to fight back with, to escape, he wasn’t going to give up, not until the very last tick of the damnable clock hands took him and Draco away from each other again.
He pulled Draco back towards the dark entrance to the dorms, holding his hand defensively. “You can take him if you can get through me,” he spat, not flinching from the butcher’s flinty gaze. He wasn’t losing now, not when they had been so close to escape. There was still time, the clock had only just stuck half past.
The butcher laughed at him though, setting Harry’s teeth on edge. “I won’t have to take him, you pathetic elf,” he gloated. “Once you’ve lost your memory, he won’t mean anything to you, and you’ll just let me walk out of here with him without so much as a peep.” He grinned in triumph, but Harry shook his head.
“I’ve been obsessed with Draco Malfoy for seven years,” he growled, raising an eyebrow in defiance. “It’s going to take a lot more magic than you think you’ve got to make me give up on him now, you skinny bastard.”
He felt Draco squeeze his hand, but it was a gesture filled with futility. He looked around to see Draco’s eyes shining with unshed tears, his lips pulled in a small, bleak smile. “Thank you,” he said.
“I’m not letting them take you,” Harry uttered. He’d never allow himself to just forget and go on to a carefree life when he knew Draco would suffer unimaginable pain. “Not whilst I’m still breathing,” he promised, then turned around to face the butcher and his skeleton legion with grim determination. “It’s not like I haven’t died before.”
“Well,” a voice came from their feet. “That makes two of us then.”
Harry and Draco’s heads jerked downwards in shock to see the black dog standing there. “Bones!” Draco shouted, dropping to his knees and scooping up the dog in his arms in a fierce hug. His pretty bonnet was gone now, and in its place was a bowtie around his neck, striped with Gryffindor red and Slytherin green.
“Ooh,” the butcher said, shaking his head, his skeletons firming up their ranks behind him to block the exit. They had formed a semi-circle around the common room, and seemed to have believed, like Harry had, that there was no way out through the dormitories. But if that was the case, where had Bones come from? “I’m surprised you had the guts to come all the way down here by yourself mutt. It’s a little out of your league isn’t it?”
“Who says he is by himself, Abattoir?” A woman dressed entirely in black emerged from the shadows. Harry could just about make out her features from underneath the black mesh veil she wore, and felt Draco straighten in recognition beside him.
“Mother?” he said, before shaking his head as if to clear it. “I mean, Your Highness, I-”
She reached forward and touched Draco’s shoulder. “It is alright Draco,” she said. “I understand I am not really your mother.” She sidestepped him, and came and stood in front of Harry. “That being said,” she addressed the butcher. “I will still not allow any harm to come to him or his friend, is that understood Mayor Abattoir?”
The butcher, or mayor Harry supposed, chuckled at her threat. “Your Highness,” he simpered with an ingratiating bow. “I was merely attempting to return him to you, to see you as a family once again.”
Harry spluttered. “He was going to lock him in a dungeon and torture him to death!” he yelled incredulously.
The mayor shrugged. “Well, we don’t have to do that,” he said with a roll of his eyes.
It hadn’t escaped Harry’s attention that the skeletons were silently drawing in; just an inch or so at a time, but they were definitely getting closer. “They do not belong here Abattoir,” the queen said firmly. “I am here to see them personally returned to the Living Land, before the strike of midnight.”
Draco stood with Bones still in his arms, the worry on his face reflecting Harry’s own feelings. It was an extremely nice gesture, but they were still only four against a whole army, a fact that didn’t seem to have passed Abattoir by either. “The only reason you were able to travel down here at all,” he boasted. “Is because my police followed in the wake of these boys. Once their memories of the Living Land are gone, and we depart back to the first level, you will have no means of maintaining this existence, and you’ll fade into nothingness.” He snarled nastily. “And believe me, I will make you stay behind for daring to interfere with my affairs. You’ll be lost, and the Darkling Prince will be mine, and the royal family of Halloween Land will fade into oblivion.”
“You seem sure of that,” the queen said calmly.
Abattoir curled his lip. “Without an army of your own, I don’t see what choice you have?”
“Ah,” said Bones with a nod from his perch in Draco’s arms. “That’s alright then.” He let lose an ear-piercing whistle, and Harry flinched backwards as all the windows around them shattered.
Walking suits of armour brandishing enormous longswords started clambering inside, and a dozen or so ghosts came flying overhead, dropping heavy pumpkins onto the heads of the HSP, scattering their bones apart and making a squishy mess of the carpet.
“What-?” the mayor cried in outrage, his head snapping back and forth as his minions took on the clanking suits of armour.
“We’re gonna need more space Sunshine,” Bones said, reaching up with a paw to bat at Draco’s chest. “Quick, think of somewhere bigger.”
“Why-?” Draco asked.
“Just do it!” Bones shouted back.
Harry barely registered the thought before the walls of the common room began falling, cascading down impossibly fast, brick by brick like a waterfall. The ground was pulled from under them like a rug, and before his and Draco’s backsides hit the floor it had turned to grass. The furniture was swallowed up into the dirt in a flash, and the ceiling blew away as if snatched up by a powerful tornado, leaving them open to the night air.
They were on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, and Harry felt rather saw his clothes change yet again into the Gryffindor team kit. Draco too was now sporting the Slytherin colours, and he scrambled up with Bones still in his arms, pointing several feet away. “Quick!” he instructed, and Harry understood why. Along with their uniforms, they also now had been gifted with a pair of brand new Firebolt 3000s.
Draco chucked the first one he picked up into Harry’s waiting grasp, then they both mounted the brooms and shot several feet into the air, hovering out of the reach of the skeletons still wrestling with the armour, as well as the mayor, although the queen was doing a good job keeping him at bay with a jewel encrusted dagger.
The HSP were pouring in from every door in the stadium door though, and the ghosts had run out of pumpkins. The armour battalion was holding its ground, but at the current rate it would be less than a minute if that before they would become outnumbered.
“We have to do something!” Harry cried helplessly.
“Don’t worry mate,” a voice inexplicably came from above. “We’ve got you covered!”
Harry’s jaw dropped as he looked up…and was met with a sky full of wings.
Rocky was dive bombing into the fray, shooting past them on their brooms with a squadron of robins in his wake to aim themselves at the HSP skulls, sending them toppling from their shoulders to smash into the ground. The female warriors were back on their flying horses, their battle cry echoing around the stadium as they wielded their mallets and axes with deadly force, their leader stopping to hand Draco a large horn from her back that apparently contained some sort of drink.
“Your Highness,” she cried in delight. “It seems you found your love.”
Harry blinked stupidly as Draco grinned at him. “It seems I did,” he agreed.
Reinforcements weren’t just coming from above, and Harry watched on stunned as several stadium doors stopped disgorging skeletons and instead allowed entry to a whole variety of faces, some familiar, some not at all, but all it seemed were hell bent on stopping the HSP.
With a mighty roar, an entire crew of grisly looking pirates erupted through the stands, gleefully launching an attack on the horde of skeletons. A beefy looking guy in a flat cap shouldered his way through a group trying to hold back the doors he’d emerged from, paving the way for a troop of men in women who were so synchronised they were practically dancing, sparks flying from their heals that struck like lightning, shaking the skeletons apart with its blinding force.
Harry’s heart lurched in recognition as he spied BB8 racing across the ground, all manner of other droids flanking him as they smashed into any HSP unwise enough to get in their way. Then, from the other side of the stadium he realised his friends Joe and Bobby were part of a gaggle of elves pelting the skeletons with tangerines and lumps of coal, enjoying themselves immensely from the looks of it.
“How you doing Harry?” Bobby yelled with a wave as he sent another skeleton spinning to the ground.
“This is so much fun!” Joe added with a grin. Harry’s friendship with them may have been invented, but he still felt a pang of pride as he watched them coordinate with the wise old owl overhead, driving the HSP down into the ground.
“We should help,” Harry said, but the warrior woman shook her head and held his arm to stop him descending.
“You need to be ready to make your escape, young elf,” she said sagely. “Let us do this for you. It will do our people good to stand united.”
Harry wasn’t convinced, it wasn’t in his nature to hang back and let others fight for him, but the woman’s grip was strong, and he had to admit, their friends definitely seemed to be winning.
However, the mayor still had several of his loyal police around him as they charged up the stands, using the chairs to put space between them and their attackers. Harry gasped helplessly as one of the pirates scrambled over the seats towards them…only to have his hand severed from his arm in one lucky blow.
“No!” he cried, lurching forwards, but Draco grabbed him and shrugged.
“Don’t worry,” he said, nodding at the other pirates who were dragging their fallen friend back, allowing a wave of leprechauns to nip in and clamber up the skeletons’ bony frames and bash their skulls in with tiny tin tankards. “Look.”
Harry’s attention turned back to the pirate, who to his shock had already stopped screaming and perversely was looking quite happy now as he was presented with a shiny hook prosthetic, that he cheerfully jammed on the end of his stump.
“Pirates like that sort of thing,” Draco explained with a nod to bones, who nodded back proudly. Harry wondered how the two of them had met, but he didn’t have long to ponder on it.
“Still causing trouble I see elf?” a voice from above called to him, and Harry turned his broom to see Fan riding a mighty dragon. His face burst into an unrestrained smile as she waved at him, then watched as the dragon lowered its tail, allowing the other creatures riding on its back to scamper onto the pitch. Harry noted a tiger, a rat and a horse before realising they were the twelve animals of the Chinese zodiac. They practically radiated power, and the HSP cowered away from them as they began to move through the battle.
“That’s quite the scuffle you’ve got going on there” a squeaky voice slurred, and Harry turned to see a parrot land on the end of Draco’s broom, a leprechaun wobbling off to raise a tankard up to Draco.
“It is indeed Brandon,” he agreed, raising his horn back at him. He took another swig, then manoeuvred his broom over to Harry so they were shoulder to shoulder. He offered Harry a drink, which he accepted in his dazed state, barely registering the potent mead he swallowed down. “Look at all these people that came for you,” Draco said proudly.
But Harry shook his head, and touched his fingers to Draco’s cheek affectionately. “They’ve come for you too,” he insisted.
But it wasn’t quite over yet. The mayor was back in the throng, calling his HSP to him for a last stand, fighting off advances from all sides with desperate fervour. “You will not defeat me!” he was raving, spinning on the spot as he witnessed the carnage around him, flailing his cleaver through the air. “Stand your ground troops, these fools with rue the day-”
Harry was sure he might have gone on for ages; he probably had a whole tiresome speech lined up to keep them there until midnight.
If only an entire avalanche of snow hadn’t dropped on his head.
Harry and Draco’s head’s snapped up, and Harry couldn’t help but grin as he saw a familiar red sleigh hovering amongst the winged horses, robins and witches. “Ho ho ho,” a voice boomed over the stadium, and an arm dressed in a red coat and black glove waved over the side. “Merry Christmas Harry!”
“Merry Christmas to you too,” Harry whispered as he watched the sleigh zip up into the night and out of sight.
Most of the skeletons had been under the tonne of snow that had smashed into the ground, so Harry and Draco’s comrades had little trouble rounding up the rest and subduing them. However, there was a disturbance at the centre of the snow mound, and it didn’t take long for something to emerge.
“Come on,” Harry mumbled to Draco, and the two of them, along with the animals loitering on Draco’s broom, finally drifted to the ground again. Several people bounded over to see if they were okay, but Harry was just watching as cracks appeared in the hill in front of them, lumps tumbling down as the top began to break open.
“No!” howled Mayor Abattoir as he erupted from the snow. “No you fools, they cannot be allowed to leave!” He heaved his body out as people turned and looked up at him. “Stop them!” he yelled, pointing at Harry and Draco and he scrambled down the side. “Stop them! Stop them!”
“Enough!” Bones bellowed as the queen of Halloween town once again stepped in front of him and halted him with the tip of her dagger. This time though, the mayor was defenceless; he must have lost his cleaver in the snow.
“You can’t do this!” he howled, pulling at his dripping wet hair.
Bones shook his head. “You’re so full of hate,” he told him sadly. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“Oh don’t you start with all that namby-pamby Christmas tripe,” Abattoir sneered. “Why can’t you just leave well enough alone?”
Bones shrugged. “I used to,” he admitted. “Helped the odd Living soul out when I spotted them, mostly just minded my own business. But causing you trouble seems to be the only way you’ll talk to me anymore.”
Abattoir let out a hoot. “Why does that matter?” he demanded, placing his hands on his narrow hips.
“I guess it don’t,” sighed Bones. “But the thing is, your bloody miserable attitude – not to mention your homicidal inclinations – are starting to infect the rest of us, and you know what? I’m not okay with that.”
“Me either,” said Harry, pressing his arm against Draco’s as his heart finally began to slow down again. He hoped they were out of danger now, and tried not to dwell on what had almost happened. It wasn’t over yet, but with so much support for their cause, he couldn’t help but be hopeful.
“The animosity between lands is getting worse,” Bones carried on. “I’ve seen it over and over today. And I say”- his voice rising -“BOLLOCKS to that!”
The crowd cheered, and Abattoir looked around in disbelief. The snow was starting to melt behind him, and the Irish dancers and warrior women were pulling out skeletons one by one to restrain them.
“It doesn’t matter who’s more widely recognised,” Bones continued. “Who’s a ‘proper’ holiday and who’s not. It doesn’t matter who makes the best fireworks, or if your origin is spiritual or purely trivial. We’re all in this together!”
“Moronic simpletons,” Abattoir spat, flashing his teeth as the horde cheered again. The snow was making the blood drip sickeningly from his apron as he spun around. “The lot of you! We are all in this together; and I’m telling you now, if you let these boys go, you’ll be upsetting the status quo. Holidays are built on tradition. If we allow that to fall, who knows what will happen!”
Bones barked at him, and Harry couldn’t help but smirk at how he cringed away. “Holidays may be built on traditions,” he shouted back. “But we’ve forgotten that every tradition, no matter how big or small, came from a celebration of love.”
“Love of family!” Fan cried.
“Love of giving,” agreed Bobby, Joe nodding by his side.
“Love of equality,” announced the warrior leader sombrely.
“Love of ale!” shouted the big guy in the flat cap, which he tilted reverently at Draco and Harry.
“Hear hear!” agreed what Harry assumed to be the pirate captain with the big, black beard.
“Don’t you remember love, Abe?” Bones asked, and Harry realised he was talking to Mayor Abattoir.
For a second, the mayor blinked, then he shook his head in disgust. “Love has no place in Halloween Land,” he snarled, pointing his long finger down at Bones. “Halloween is about horror, and I intend to remind everyone of that fact!”
“What about love of candy?” asked Joe, wide-eyed.
“Or the love of the beautiful and the macabre?” the queen pointed out, holding her hand over her heart.
“Or love of costumes?” suggested one of the star-spangled girls from American Independence Day.
BB8 bleeped, and Rocky, who perched on his head nodded. “Or love of games.”
“You had love in your heart once,” Bones told the mayor defiantly. “You may not remember, but I do, and I won’t stop trying to help you.”
Draco stepped forward, and Harry let his hand go as he crouched down to stroke the dog’s head. “You knew him,” he said sadly. “In the Living Land?”
Harry had always thought of Draco as being unfeeling, of not having friends so much as hanging around people who he deemed useful to him. But it appeared he had formed quite a close relationship with Bones over just the one day, and he had to admit it made him feel hopeful. If he and Draco were going to try and be together, to have a relationship, it was very comforting to see he had some compassion in him, that he was in fact capable of caring for others.
Abattoir grimaced, as if abhorred by the idea, but Bones looked up at Draco with his big eyes and a small smile. “We were best friends,” he confessed. “Once upon a time, when he was just a regular butcher, before he allowed himself to be twisted.”
“Lies!” Abattoir shrieked, looking wildly around at the crowd. “You’ll not spread them anymore mutt!”
“The only thing that’s spreading is hope,” Bones shot back with a laugh that sounded almost like a sob, and Harry’s heart ached for him. “Look at these boys. You tried to pull them apart. And yet thanks to their love, they trekked across the lands to find one another. You can’t defeat that, you never would have won.”
“Yeah!” the tiny leprechaun Brandon cried, sloshing his tankard, and a deafening cheer rang around the stadium as people clapped and whooped and pumped their fists in the air.
“Their love is going to grow in this world long after they’re gone,” Bones informed Abattoir with determination. “But now, it’s really time they left.”
Harry had completely forgotten about the time, and he looked frantically around for a clock, but there was none. “How long do we have?” he asked as Draco jumped to his feet and grabbed his hand again.
“You have a few minutes,” Fan answered, showing him her watch that read ten to twelve. “So, I guess this is goodbye?” Her eyes were bright and she fiddled with the cuff of her tunic.
Harry threw his arms around her. “I’m afraid so,” he admitted. “Thank you, for everything” he said, tears spilling down his cheeks yet again. This was all happening so fast. “I never could have done this without you. Say goodbye to your Nai Nai for me.”
“I will,” Fan promised, wiping her eyes and grinning.
The mayor was still ranting about how this couldn’t be allowed to happen, and how it was going to unravel their very existence, but the queen was doing a good job of keeping him at bay, and everyone else was ignoring him in favour of waving the boys goodbye.
Harry wished they had more time. He wished he had remembered his true self earlier. He wanted to go back and talk to everyone again, to thank them for everything they had done, but the minutes were ticking away, so he was going to have to be content with the people in front of him now.
He felt a tap on his boot. “It was nice to finally meet you,” Bones said from down on the floor, and Harry crouched to give him a kiss on the head.
“You too,” he agreed. “Thank you for looking after him.” He didn’t say it aloud, but he’d come to understand that not a lot of people had been willing to take a chance on Draco Malfoy, preferring to use him instead of help him, and Harry was so glad that Bones hadn’t been one of those.
He looked up to see Bobby and Joe stumble to a halt in front of him. “Wait,” Joe panted, confusion on his face. “What’s all this talk of leaving?”
“Aren’t you coming home?” Bobby asked in a hurt tone. “Where are you going?”
“Hang on,” said Joe, blinking rapidly as realisation dawned on his face. “Is this him?”
Bobby’s attention snapped to look at Draco too, and Harry proudly but a little shyly rubbed his shoulder in affirmation, surprised at how quickly he was becoming used to touching Draco.
“Yes, this is the dream boy,” he said.
“He’s real,” said Bobby in awe.
“He’s bloody handsome,” countered Joe with a slack jaw, and Harry had to laugh as Draco went pink.
“I dread to think what you told them,” he mumbled, but Harry just laughed again and kissed his cheek.
“So, you’re going to Halloween Land with him?” Bobby asked sadly, and Harry felt a pang of regret. He knew logically he didn’t really know them all that well, but the false memories were still there, lurking underneath his real ones and he still felt extremely sad to realise he would never be able to see his ‘best friends’ again.
“No,” he said softly, taking the time to hug them both. “We’re going to the Living Land, it’s where we belong.”
“Five minutes,” Bones warned.
“It’s okay,” Fan said, stepping up beside Joe and putting her arm around his shoulders. “We’ll explain it all afterwards, won’t we guys?”
The leprechauns and the pirates and the warrior women all nodded and slapped each other on the back, and Harry swallowed thickly. “Thank you,” he said, and Draco echoed him as well.
Harry was about to ask what they had to do next, when he looked down to see BB8 trundle over to them, and Rocky flew up to look Draco in the eye. “I was wrong about you,” he told him bluntly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s quite alright,” Draco told him bashfully, then looked down as BB8 let off a trill of beeps.
Rocky blinked, then cleared his throat to relay the message. “Apparently, you’ve both got the force – it’s obviously popular today,” he added with a hint of bitterness that Bones laughed at. “And this one here-” He jerked his head at Draco. “-needs to tap into it sharpish if you’re going to make it out of here on time.”
“The…what?” said Draco, but Harry shook his head.
“I’ll explain later,” he said, looking around at their group of friends. “Is it going to help us get back?”
Rocky nodded. BB8 opened a small compartment to let a mechanical arm shoot out, a blue flame lighting on the end like a thumbs up. “But I think you need to get moving,” Rocky said pointedly.
Harry understood. “I wish we could stay a little longer,” he said. He was disappointed to leave them, but on the other hand there was no way he was going to let his memory get wiped, not after all he and Draco had endured. “How do we get back home?”
Bones raised his eyebrows, and used one of his paws to point upwards. “Looks like some of that force magic to me, boys,” he said.
Harry and Draco turned together, and saw that the central Quidditch goal hoop looming overhead was glowing gold, the blackness of a portal clearly showing from within.
Draco looked back at Bones. “You go up,” he said to him, his voice strained. “And don’t look back.”
“You got it, Sunshine,” Bones told him firmly, despite the gruffness of his voice.
“But,” said Draco, suddenly worried, which made Harry’s heart plummet. “You said the only way out was though a holiday on the day it was being celebrated?”
Bones barked out a laugh, a real, genuine cry of happiness. “Where do you think we are?” he all but shouted, then shook his head at their confusion. “You created this land, here, today.”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked, not quite getting it.
Bones used a paw to adjust his little bowtie, and tilted his head with a smirk on his face. “This is your anniversary boys.” Then he winked. “Congratulations.”
Harry felt his knees go weak, before he got a hold of his ridiculous self. Their anniversary? Well. That sound rather permanent.
Draco just gaped at him, and managed a little “Oh?”
“You must go.” The queen’s voice rang through the night, and Harry turned to see her and several of the pirates still holding a dejected looking mayor in place. “Your time is short.”
“Good luck!” Bobby cried as several others shouted out similar sentiments. Abattoir had been gagged by this point, and Harry couldn’t say he was sorry.
Joe ran forward for one last hug, and then surprised Harry by embracing Draco too. “Look after each other,” he said thickly through his tears. “Take care.”
“You too,” said Harry as Bobby gently pulled him back.
Draco looked around once more, then locked his gaze with Harry. “Ready?” he asked, before darting in for a quick, reassuring kiss.
Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “I think so,” he said, wiping his eyes under his glasses, then glanced down to address Bones directly. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “Don’t let them forget, alright.”
“Love is the answer,” Bones agreed with a salute.
And with that the two boys slung their legs over their broomsticks and bolted into the sky. “How are we going to get through four whole levels in time?” Harry asked as they made a beeline for the Quidditch hoop.
Draco shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said with an odd smile. “But a feel like…I think we’re closer than we think.” He reached across the gap between them as they approached the portal, and as the threshold loomed, the boys once again joined hands. “Do you trust me?”
Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Yes,” he growled with determination. “We’re going to make it through.”
And with that, they plunged into the darkness, with nothing but love and hope to guide them on.
***
Hermione glared at her watch, not sure if she wanted to cry or be sick or curl up in a ball and demand sleep take her into oblivion.
One minute.
They only had one minute until midnight tolled, and still, there was nothing.
They had managed to coax open the sigil of the entwined lion and serpent, the symbol of Gryffindor and Slytherin united, and the edge of the heart-stopping blackness was ringed with a bright golden glow that showed…something was happening.
Pansy had allowed the Aurors to enhance hers and Draco’s bonding spell to its very limit, and she was stood before the void, stripped of her coat and all outer accessories, sweating profusely with her jaw clamped and her fists bunched. Her feet were literally melded to the forest floor, and she was muttering to herself of the verge of tears. “Come on Draco, come on. Come on Draco, you can do it.”
Ron was pacing back and forth behind where Hermione avidly clock-watching, yanking his hair and moaning desperately. This wasn’t happening, Hermione told herself. It had to work.
Thirty seconds.
Okay, right, she thought, refusing to succumb to the panic in her chest or the lump in her throat. If it didn’t work she would stick to her plan. She’d go through one of the image-doors, maybe this Gryffindor-Slytherin one if they could keep it open. She would organise some sort of tethering spells first, recoil, snap-back and summoning as well. She would implement tracking traces and panic pulses, and then she would go and find them. She would-
“Urgh!” Pansy cried, doubling over, and McGonagall rushed to her side, grabbing her around the ribs, freeing her feet from the ground and hauling her upright.
“Ms Parkinson, are you alright?”
Pansy though raised her head, a manic grin on her face as the sweat dripped from her eyelashes, her shirt clinging to her body as she gasped forcefully, then looked Hermione directly in the eye.
“They’re he-re,” she sang, then collapsed to her knees.
Hermione made to run to her side, but a sudden force blasted her – and everyone else in the vicinity – back several feet into the trees and bushes and whatever other flora the forest threw in their way.
Hermione smacked her head into a mercifully image-free tree, but it still hurt like nothing else, and she rolled to her side with stars twinkling in her eyes. She grunted, hand to her head, immediately struggling to her feet and stumbling forwards to make sure Ron was okay. But the sight that greeted her made her stop dead.
A light pulsed from the tree they had been working on, and she shielded her eyes as…something blasted outwards and into the clearing.
She wasn’t the only one to be scrabbling to their feet amidst the plethora of Aurors, but at the sight of Harry’s lifeless body arching as it inhaled violently, she was definitely the first to make it back into the glade.
“HARRY!” she screamed as she skidded to her shins, seizing the lapels of his dress robes as his eyes flew open and he jerked and flailed horribly. “Harry, I’m here, it’s Hermione, you’re okay!”
He gulped and gasped and flung his hands about, but slowly, he managed to draw his focus in and settled on Hermione’s face. “Uhm-” he uttered. “Uhm – Uhmione?”
“I’m here!” she croaked, unable to stop the sob that rattled from her chest. Ron was abruptly by her side, one arm around her shoulder and the other hand gripping Harry’s free hand as if determined never to let him go again, which Hermione couldn’t say she disagreed with.
“Harry!” he shouted, wiggling his fingers in front of his face before grabbing Hermione again as she sagged in relief. Harry was waking up, it had worked, it had worked!
“Draco?” he rasped.
Hermione blinked, and sat back on her heels. “Yes,” she said, glancing over Malfoy’s prone form, which was currently being cradled by Pansy. “Malfoy’s here?”
Pansy looked horrendous; hair dishevelled and pale skin slick with sweat, body trembling, dark circles under her eyelids; in fact her eyes and fingernails were actually bleeding, presumably as a result of the bonding spell. But she looked over from where she was crouched like some feral creature, unabashed joy emanating from every limb as Draco – Malfoy – surged to life, gasping for air and pawing at his fellow Slytherin’s throat.
“Oi!” she shouted, seizing his lapels and giving him a good shake. “It’s me, knock it off!”
Draco snapped his attention to her immediately, and Hermione turned back to Harry. “Hello?” she tried tentatively.
He thrust forward, flinging his arms around her. “I thought you were a dream,” he rasped, fumbling his hands at the back of her scarf.
“It’s all real,” she cried happily.
“Harry?”
Hermione, Harry and Ron all looked over as Malfoy sat up, Pansy’s arm still around him to help him balance. He looked exhausted but his eyes were clear as he looked at Harry – and that was when she realised he hadn’t called him Potter. And Harry hadn’t called him Malfoy, a point he proved as he gasped his name again and scrambled clumsily to his feet.
Hermione took in as he ignored them, McGonagall and all the Aurors standing around watching on with an air of relief, but also confusion as Harry launched himself and tackled Malfoy back to the ground, both boys hugging and practically crying with laughter.
“What’s going on?” Ron asked.
“I’m not sure-” Hermione started to agree, when her words were cut off with a startled gasp as Harry took Malfoy’s face squarely between his hands…and kissed him.
“What the-!” Ron screeched, and several of the Aurors looked away awkwardly. Hermione felt Pansy drop beside her and pat her on the knee.
“Told you,” she said in a tired but happy voice as she wiped the blood from her face and hands, then rested her head on Hermione's shoulder. She barely noticed she was so transfixed on the snogging boys before her.
Ron had his hands over his eyes. “Oh Merlin,” he whined. “Has it stopped yet?”
“Erm,” said Hermione. As it turned out though, the two of them did chose that moment to come up for air, and she was startled by the rapt way they looked into each other’s eyes.
“We did it,” whispered Harry.
Malfoy nodded. “We’re here.”
Harry pulled him into a tight embrace, stroking his hair and his back with such tenderness Hermione found herself quite taken aback. Just what had happened to them in the past twenty four hours? “They must have had quite a day,” she murmured in disbelief, but felt Pansy shake her head.
“I think it’s been a long time coming,” she countered, which Hermione was definitely going to have to ask her to elaborate on, but not now.
For now, they had got their friends back and they were safe.
She pulled Ron’s hands down and dragged him into a hug. “I think Harry might be a bit gay,” she giggled into his ear.
“Yeah,” he said faintly. “I got that. But…with Malfoy? Really?”
“Oh don’t be such a bore,” Pansy told him with a poke of his leg. “You do realise you’re going to have to get used to us now, right?”
“We are?” Ron asked meekly.
She nodded and gave his cheek an affectionate pinch. “I’ve become quite fond of you both,” she said with a wink, then indicated Harry and Malfoy. “And any idiot could have told you these two were inevitable.”
Hermione wouldn’t have said so until that moment, but watching them now as they wrapped themselves together, heads resting against one another as McGonagall crouched to talk quietly to them, Hermione had to agree.
“Urgh,” she moaned tiredly, and flopped onto her back, Ron following on one side, and Pansy on the other. Her whole body ached, she was pretty sure the back of her head was bleeding, and she doubted she would ever feel warm again. “Happy World Vegan Day,” she said.
It was Ron who started laughing first, the dissipating adrenalin making him hysterical, and the girls followed not far behind him. They shook and cried, rolling into each other until Harry and Malfoy came barrelling on top of them, making one giant hug out of the awkward pile of limbs.
“McGonagall told us what you did,” Harry said once they had all found some solid ground to sit up on, huddling together as a group. “Thank you.”
“Ahh,” said Pansy with a wave of her hand. “How else were we going to spend World Vegan Day?”
“How indeed,” Harry agreed, shaking his head and leaning in to give Malfoy another kiss.
Hermione wasn’t sure what this meant for them now as the five of them stiffly got back to their feet. McGonagall herded them towards the castle with strict instructions to go to the medical wing, and Hermione watched Harry and Malfoy – Draco – take each other’s hands and walk on ahead. Ron slipped his hand into hers too, and Pansy rubbed her shoulder against hers as they followed.
One thing was for sure – their lives were never going to be the same again.