A Little Sweetness [Contains GGAD; Skip If It's Not Your Thing]

The Slytherin dormitory.

Candlelight flickered inside a silver-and-green glass lampshade, casting Draco Malfoy's shadow on a wall covered in Quidditch posters.

He sat cross-legged on his four-poster bed. A permanent Preservation Charm had been cast on the box of Honeydukes sweets, which sat in the most prominent spot between his Quidditch star cards and his model Nimbus 2001.

"She even remembered I like Acid Pops." Draco poked a finger at the pink sweets in the box, which were making soft popping sounds. "I only mentioned it once, in Diagon Alley last summer."

Goyle and Crabbe crowded together at the foot of the bed like two mountains of flesh.

Crabbe secretly nudged a box beneath the bed with his foot. It contained the flowers and perfume they had originally prepared to give Potter on their young master's behalf.

Clearly, there was no use for them now.

"But the note said..." Goyle cautiously pointed at the framed note that read "Leave me alone."

"She was being shy!" Draco jumped off the bed. "Just like my father says, girls are always shy when a man pursues them! The more they like him, the shyer they get!"

A sudden gust of cold air lifted the back of his pajama collar, and Draco spun around. But outside the window, there was only the dim shimmer of the Black Lake, and a little silver fish swimming curiously against the glass.

"Strange..."

He rubbed the back of his neck, and inspiration suddenly struck. "Do you think Harry sent her owl somewhere nearby? Maybe she was too shy to say it directly..."

Goyle and Crabbe exchanged a glance, then each grabbed a handful of sweets and stuffed them into their mouths.

Think whatever you like, they thought. It was none of their business.

The castle's west tower.

Snowflakes drifted in through the ancient stone window, only to turn into fine golden dust the instant they touched the two boys.

Albus Dumbledore leaned over the windowsill, his red hair dancing like flames around his shoulders, the lights of the Slytherin Common Room below reflected in his blue eyes.

Draped over his shoulders was the starry scarf the House-elf had just hung on the doorknob. Its stitches were crooked, but every star twinkled merrily.

"Look, Gellert," he said with a smile, pointing toward the distant Slytherin dormitory. "It's good to be young, isn't it? Do you know what I just saw? Young Malfoy was writing Harry a love letter, ha."

The blond boy pressed close behind him, wrapping his arms around Albus's waist. Gellert Grindelwald rested his chin on the red-haired boy's shoulder. "You weren't nearly so innocent when you were young."

"What was I doing when I was young?" Albus pretended to think, tapping his fingertips lightly against the window frame. "Oh-being locked in the basement of Nurmengard by a certain dark wizard?"

Gellert gave his earlobe a punishing bite. "A certain dark wizard was the one you locked up in Nurmengard." He suddenly lowered his voice. "But now..."

The boy's long fingers brushed across Albus's palm.

Albus turned around, his red hair sweeping across Gellert's cheek. Their noses touched, and their breaths mingled in a white mist.

"Tell me, if we went and destroyed all of Voldemort's Horcruxes now..."

"They'll find their own way, my dear Albus." Gellert laced their fingers together and pulled him toward the spiral staircase. "It's Christmas Eve. Are you sure you want to discuss that?"

A portrait hanging on the wall, unable to watch any longer, cleared its throat. "Gentlemen, if you're going to do anything in the corridor, at least cast a privacy charm..."

Without looking back, Gellert waved the Elder Wand, and a string of golden runes enveloped the entire staircase. He pulled Albus into the shadows, one end of the starry scarf still floating in the moonlight like the afterglow of a phoenix feather.

Morning frost spread across the windowpanes in fernlike patterns.

The day after Christmas, Harry was walking through the corridor with her books in her arms when Cho Chang suddenly rushed around the corner, unmelted flecks of snow still clinging to her black hair.

"Harry!" She grabbed Harry's wrist, her voice barely above a whisper. "The castle was haunted last night!"

Nearly Headless Nick happened to drift between them just then. Hearing this, he smoothed his half-severed bow tie in displeasure. "Miss, when has Hogwarts not had ghosts?"

"Not ordinary ghosts!" Cho Chang's fingernails dug into Harry's sleeve without her realizing it. "The Ravenclaw Prefect said she saw two young ghost men in the library she'd never seen before-one red-haired and one blond. They could use magic!"

That really was a little different.

Harry pondered this.

"Are you sure it wasn't one of Peeves's pranks?" Hermione, who had appeared behind them at some point, asked. "Ghosts being able to use magic is really beyond what people understand."

Cho Chang was just about to object when the castle bell suddenly rang.

Outside the window, several younger students stood in the snow, pointing and gesturing around Filch. In a snowdrift at the caretaker's feet were two unmistakable, clear footprints, gleaming with an eerie golden dust.

The Christmas holidays lasted two weeks, and after Ron, the twins, and Ginny invited her so warmly, Harry finally went to the Weasley family home with Hermione.

The Weasley family's fireplace was like a little sun, warming Harry's cheeks until they glowed.

The moment Molly Weasley saw her, she pulled her into a tight bear hug that nearly broke her ribs, the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg wafting off her.

"Dears, go and have fun first!" Molly waved her wand, and a bag of flour opened itself. "I'll bake some cream scones-Ron! Stop sneaking cranberries!"

Harry coughed twice. "Mrs. Weasley... I actually brought a friend."

She stepped aside, and a filthy black dog bounded out from behind her. Amid everyone's cries of surprise, he transformed into Sirius. The kitchen erupted at once-

"Merlin's socks!" Molly's wand fell into the flour bowl. "Sirius Black!"

Sirius Black?

Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

Professor Black was Sirius? Then didn't that mean...

Just as Ron thought his mum would write to Azkaban at once, she lunged forward and seized Sirius by the ear. "How dare you use your Animagus form to rub against my new apron!"

...It seemed different from what they had imagined.

When Arthur Weasley came home from work, this was the scene that greeted him.

His wife was chasing an old friend she hadn't seen in years with a rolling pin, the twins were taking bets at the dining table, and Harry and Hermione were doubled over laughing.

After the lavish dinner, the adults stayed downstairs to talk while the children were sent up to bed.

Ron leaned over the banister, his eyes rounder than the Christmas light bulbs Ginny had conjured. "So Professor Black is Sirius? And he used to play pranks on professors with my dad?"

Hermione's eyebrows knotted. "But they said he was the one who betrayed the Potters-"

"It was Peter Pettigrew." Harry stared at Scabbers's cage in the corner, where the rat was frantically gnawing at the metal bars. "He faked his death and escaped."

A shrill squeaking came from the cage.

Ginny tugged quietly at Harry's sleeve. "Do you want to go shopping in Diagon Alley tomorrow?"

Harry looked away from Peter, who had turned into a rat, and, under Ginny's bright gaze, nodded and accepted her invitation for the next day.