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Winter is a beautiful time to view, yet an awful time to experience. At least, that's how it is for Harry. The teen has always despised the cold temperatures, somehow always freezing despite wearing layer upon layer of warm clothes. Even now, during his fourth winter at Hogwarts, he acted like a moth drawn to a flame at any semblance of warmth he could find. Though Harry never worried about his lack of tolerance to the cold, chalking it up to just being how his body works. Like how his friend Neville gets sick easily in hot weather, Harry's body just can't stand the cold.
Especially now, down in the dungeons of the school. The lower level was chilly any other time of year, yet during the winter didn’t feel any different than being outside in the falling snow. The fourth year shivered as he made his way to potions class, feet dragging as he buried his face in his scarf. Harry, too preoccupied with preventing himself from turning into an ice sculpture, paid no mind to his surroundings. Due to this he failed to notice the booming footsteps of someone running towards him until it was too late.
Something large barreled past him, knocking into his shoulder roughly. In his daze the Gryffindor’s books fell from his hands, spilling across the stone floor. Harry’s mind snapped back to the present as his eyes focused on the source of the accident.
Standing before him was none other than Marcus Flint, one of the Slytherin prefects.
“Oh my, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you standing there.” The older student’s tune and face was the exact opposite of genuine, though Harry didn’t expect it to be. He was all too familiar with what kind of person Marcus is, knowing full well the so-called ‘accident’ was intentional. Harry pointedly ignored him, too tired to deal with Marcus and his antics.
“See you in class, Potter.” Marcus smirked before walking away.
Harry groaned, he had completely forgotten Marcus would be in his class today. The prefect was assisting Snape as a teacher’s aid as a part of his prefect duties. With a sigh he bent down to pick up his books, losing himself in thought once again. Though this time he couldn’t stop thinking about how warm Marcus had felt. Just brushing against the Slytherin had felt like walking past a cozy warm fireplace. He really wants to feel that warmth again…
Harry quickly shook that thought from his head. What the heck is wrong with him? He’s never thought anything like that about Marcus before and it shouldn’t be happening ever . The Slytherin has always been mean to him, never once saying anything nice, so why was he having those thoughts?! Harry was too tired to deal with his internal crisis so he simply chose to ignore it for now. Though that’s always easier said than done.
Once in class his mind drifted off once again, tuning out Snape’s words as he couldn’t help but stare at Marcus. The Slytherin was taller than him, the perfect height for him to rest his head on Harry’s while he buried his head in the crook of his neck. Marcus’s long arms would hold him safely against his broad chest, a blanket wrapped around the two as they cuddled. The Slytherin’s warmth would keep out any cold that tried to attack Harry. Harry would pull back just enough to bring his face close to Marcus and-
“Learning only works if you’re listening, Mr. Potter.” Snape spoke, his irritation clearly visible on his face. The teacher’s voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts, his face going red once he realized who he had been daydreaming about.
“Sorry, professor.” The Gryffindor quickly apologized, ignoring his classmates' curious stares.
Snape went back to teaching as Harry tried not to freak out. Why in the wizarding world was he daydreaming about Marcus?! Harry didn’t like him one bit, so why did he want to cuddle him? The Gryffindor didn’t understand why he was thinking those thoughts, so he decided the most logical thing to do was to ignore Marcus. If the Slytherin was the cause of his strange behavior then not interacting with or seeing him should fix it right? It was easy enough, he doesn’t see Marcus too often outside of Potions class. Setting his plan in motion, Harry tuned out the weird look Marcus was giving him and focused on Snape’s lesson.
Fate simply did not like Harry, or at least, Snape really didn’t like Harry. His plan to ignore Marcus was thrown out the window when the potions teacher assigned the Slytherin prefect to help him on a project. Harry’s plan had been working well the past week, at least he thought it had been. Apparently he still had been zoning out enough that Snape had noticed and thought he needed extra help, thus forcing him to interact with Marcus.
Said Slytherin was currently sitting next to him, ‘helping’ him with his assignment. Marcus definitely knows Harry has been ignoring him and is doing everything in his power to get any sort of reaction out of him. Luckily for Harry, he’s faced much harder challenges then a fellow student making his life difficult. Though despite that it’s still incredibly complicated blocking out someone that refuses to leave you alone.
“Here, Potter. Put this in the cauldron.” Marcus held out a very obviously wrong ingredient, grinning evilly while he waited for Harry to take it. Both were aware putting it in would cause a minor explosion, so Harry reached past Marcus to grab the correct one. As he picked up the ingredient his arm brushed against Marcus, feeling the warmth radiating from the prefect. Harry refused to let any thoughts about the Slytherin overtake him, quickly pulling his arm back and placing the right ingredient into the cauldron.
“Come on, Potter. I’m trying to help you.” Marcus lied. “Here, I measured out the next part.” He held out a cup that was overflowing with the next ingredient.
Wordlessly Harry took it from him, trying his best to ignore the skip in his heart when their fingers briefly touched. The younger student removed the extra material, making sure the cup held the correct amount before dumping it into the cauldron.
“Oh my bad.” Marcus grinned. “I must have read it wrong, sorry Potter .” The Slytherin was obviously trying to get a raise out of Harry, but he refused to show any sort of reaction. What would Marcus say if he stuttered over his words? Or if he blushed? The older student would definitely poke fun at him. Or possibly figure out why he was acting strangely. Harry can’t let Marcus know the thoughts he’s been having about him or else-
“Knock it off.” Marcus demanded. “I don’t want your filthy hands on me.”
Harry snapped out of his spiraling thoughts, quickly noticing he had unconsciously moved closer to Marcus. So close in fact, that if he moved a few more inches he would be touching him. Harry swiftly moved away, focusing back on his assignment.
“Hey what’s with you? You’re acting weirder than normal.” Marcus jeered. Harry risked a quick peek at the other’s face, trying to tell if his secret has been discovered. The Slytherin’s face held his usual cruel grin, though now there was a slight red tint to his cheeks. Must be from the cold Harry reasoned. What other reason could Marcus possibly have for blushing if not the chilly weather? Harry didn’t dwell on that thought for long.
“It’s rude not to answer when someone’s talking to you. Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?” There was something off about the prefect’s tone. Marcus was obviously frustrated, yet he almost sounded confused .
Harry continues ignoring the older student, never once glancing in his direction for the rest of class. Though he’s very aware of Marcus staring holes into his head, waiting for Harry to finally acknowledge him. An awkward tension hangs between the two for the rest of class, each too stubborn to do anything about it.
As soon as class ends Harry is quick to make his escape, leaving Marcus sitting there even more confused than before.
A few days pass without anymore incidents involving a certain Slytherin prefect. Harry is thankful for that as he makes his way to Quidditch practice. Though once at the fields he feels a strange pull, like his instincts are trying to lead him somewhere. Without a second thought he follows it, something inside of him telling him it's important.
Harry certainly didn’t expect to end up in the Slytherin’s changing rooms. Luckily no one was currently there, only Gryffindor had Quidditch practice today. His instincts lead him to a pile of stuff that he somehow knows belongs to Marcus. Harry is overcome with the urge to take the sweater laying at the top and so he does. Before he can rethink his actions he’s already in the Gryffindor changing room hiding the article of clothing with his own.
Harry doesn't second guess why he took the Slytherin’s sweater. Logically it made sense, he needs more sweaters to keep warm. At least that’s what he told himself. It gets cold at night , was his excuse for taking the blanket Marcus left behind in Potions class. I lost my scarf and needed another one , he told himself when he picked up the scarf Marcus had dropped as he was running by. The hands are the quickest thing to freeze, if I don’t wear gloves I’ll get frostbite , he reasoned as he took Marcus’s gloves when he wasn’t looking during class.
Each time Harry found a piece of clothing that belonged to the Slytherin prefect he was always ready with a reason why he needed to take it. Besides, Marcus never seemed to notice his missing stuff, so surely what he was doing was okay? Despite the million and one excuses Harry had come up with, he never wore or used the stolen clothes. Well, at least not how they should be used. Each new treasure Harry found was put onto his bed and arranged in a way his instincts told him to. Slowly his collection grew and grew, until the pile on his bed resembled a blanket nest of sorts.
Blanket nests aren’t weird , Harry assured himself, people make them all the time . Besides it keeps him warm at night, more so than just huddling under his own blankets. Also it made him happy, it was almost impossible to feel any sort of negative feelings bundled up all comfy and cozy in the nest’s warmth. Surely something that made him warm inside and out was normal… right?
According to Harry’s friends, it wasn’t normal at all .
Ron and Hermione approached Harry while he was reading in the Gryffindor common room. Harry sat in the chair closest to the fireplace so they sat on the couch nearby. He didn’t notice his friends approach nor sit down, too focused on the text in front of him.
“Um Harry…?” Ron waved his hand in front of his friend’s face, causing Harry to finally look up from his book.
“Oh hey, I didn’t see you guys there.” Harry greeted his friends, who both shared a look before Hermione spoke.
“What’s going on, Harry? You’ve been acting strange the past few weeks.”
“Um,” Harry averted his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We’re talking about the blanket nest you made on your bed out of Slytherin clothes.” Ron said, clearly displeased Harry was trying to avoid the topic.
“And your odd behavior.” Hermione added. “You’re always freezing - which definitely isn’t normal - and you’ve been acting weird around Marcus Flint. Did something happen between you two?”
“Nothing happened!” Harry was quick to reassure. “Everything’s fine I promise-”
“That’s bull and you know it.” Ron cut him off. “The one morning when I tried to wake you up I touched your blanket nest and you hissed at me. You’re always crazy protective of the stuff on your bed, anytime I look at it I’m worried you’re gonna bite my bloody head off.”
“It’s my stuff so of course I don’t want you touching it.” Harry countered.
“It's not yours , the clothes belong to Marcus .” Hermione pointed out.”
“I-” Harry fumbled to find the right words. “It just… makes me feel so warm… I’m always freezing in the winter and having a lot of clothes helps me not freeze at night.”
“Then why can’t you use your own stuff?” Ron questioned.
“...” Harry looked away, too embarrassed to answer.
“ Please Harry.” Hermione pleaded. “We’re worried about you.”
“...it makes me happy.” Harry sheepishly admits.
“To use Marcus’s clothes for your nest?” Hermione clarified.
Harry nodded before it finally hit him. His behavior was definitely not normal.
“I think you guys are right… somethings definitely wrong with me .” Harry’s eyes were wide as he remembered everything that transpired since his weird behavior had started. “I don’t know why I’m acting this way, it doesn’t make any sense…”
Hermione reached to grab Harry’s closet hand, lightly squeezing it in to comfort him.
“Don’t worry.” Hermione reassured. “I’m going to go down to the library tomorrow and figure all this out. I’ll let you know the exact moment I find something.”
“Thanks, Hermione.” Harry smiled at his friend.
“Of course.” Hermione returned the smile. “What are friends for.”
A few days later and there was still no explanation found for Harry’s odd behavior. Though that didn’t deter Hermione, the young witch spent hours every day searching the library for any information she could. She was there right now with Ron, the redhead helping to speed up the search.
Meanwhile Harry was on his way to see Hagrid, wanting to thank the man for informing him about the dragons. The weather outside was colder than usual, easily attacking Harry through the large amount of layers he wore. The freezing weather slowed his steps and destroyed his energy. Harry yawned, extremely sleepy all of a sudden.
Next thing he knows he’s on the ground, body violently shivering as it desperately tried to fight off the cold. Snow falls onto his face and body, only making things worse, yet he’s unable to move let alone get up. All he can see is the white snow surrounding him. Harry lays there, an unknown amount of time passing as he struggles to keep his eyes open.
Out of nowhere a warmth embraces him. Harry tries to get closer to the warmth but his body still won’t listen to him. Though luckily for him the warmth helps him move, bringing the half frozen boy closer to the heat. Harry also makes out a familiar smell but in his daze he can’t place what it belongs to. No longer in any danger Harry relaxes, sinking into the warmth holding him. He feels safe and so he stops fighting off the sleep his tired body demanded. Surrounded by a protective warmth, Harry allowed his consciousness to fade away...
When Harry wakes his sight is once again filled with white, though the color isn’t cold and wet anymore; it’s soft and warm. Wearily he blinks the sleep away from his eyes as the room around him slowly comes back into focus. The first detail he notices is he’s laying down in a bed, his head propped up by a soft pillow with numerous heavy blankets covering his quivering body. The next thing he notices is he’s not tucked away in the safety of his blanket nest back in the Gryffindor dorms, instead he’s laying in one of the various beds that reside in the infirmary. Not only was he in an unfamiliar location but he wasn’t alone. Those facts immediately set the teen on high alert until his hazy mind registered who they were.
Madam Pomfrey stood beside his bed, watching him wake up. Harry attempts to sit up, only making it a few inches before falling back down. Perhaps he was still weak from the cold because his body felt three times heavier than usual. The old woman sees his struggle and quickly moves to assist him. Her hands are gentle as she helps him into a seated position, positioning his pillow behind him to support his weight.
Once Harry is settled the woman leaves with a promise to be right back. Her departure brings his attention to the other people surrounding his bed. Hermione and Ron are standing on the opposite side from where Pomfrey once stood, concerned expressions on both of their faces. Yet that wasn’t all of his visitors.
Harry is surprised to see Marcus standing at the end of the infirmary bed. The Slytherin stood with his arms crossed, an aloof air about him. Despite the prefect’s best attempt to appear like he doesn’t care, his eyes betrayed his act. No matter where Marcus looked his gaze would always drift back to Harry, the concern clear as day every time he checked on the Gryffindor. Before any of them can even attempt to speak, Madam Pomfrey returns with an unknown beverage held in her hands.
“Here drink this.” The woman holds the drink up to Harry’s mouth. “It will help warm you up.”
Harry sips the warm beverage, thankful for the assistance. He doubts he would be able to hold the cup in this condition. When he’s done the matron takes the glass away, moving to check on another patient nearby.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, Harry.” Hermione speaks, relief clear in her voice.
“Same here. You gave us one bloody hell of a fright when we heard you were in the infirmary.” Ron says. “Especially since we now know what’s happening to you.”
“We found a book about parseltongues.” Hermione explains. “Not only are they able to talk to serpets, but they also inherit features from those creatures. For example, they easily get cold in the winter, which causes them to seek out heat. Though unlike snakes, parseltongues aren’t attracted to just any warmth. They’re attracted to their mate, which translates to ‘warmth’ in parseltongue.”
“Which explains why you’ve been acting so strange around Marcus and stealing his clothes. It's because you have a crush on him.” Ron clarifies.
“That’s ridiculous.” Marcus snaps, a slight pink dusting his cheeks. “I don’t care about Potter, so how could we possibly be mates?”
“You’re not serious are you? You’re the one that found him and brought him to the infirmary!” Ron points out. “If you didn’t care about him you would’ve let him freeze to death.”
"Well-” Marcus tries to argue more but he's interrupted by violent coughing. All eyes turn to face Harry, watching the teen’s body tremble as he wheezed. The commotion alerted Madam Pomfrey, the woman swiftly returning to Harry’s bed and drawing the curtains surrounding him. The matron held a knowing look in her eyes as she shooed Hermione and Ron through the curtains. Pomfrey followed the two Gryffindors out, leaving Harry and Marcus alone.
As soon as there’s no other eyes watching them, Marcus shifts closer to Harry without a second thought. His mind is still in panic mode, the fear and stress muddling his brain and controlling his actions before he can even realize what's happening. All he can focus on is Harry; he needs to cuddle him, he needs to keep him warm, he needs to make sure Harry won’t die from the cold, he needs to-
A noisy cough snaps Marcus out of his daze, the Slytherin immediately freezing in place as he takes in the situation. His arms are outstretched, only a few inches away from enclosing on Harry in a hug. Marcus quickly moves away, putting as much distance as he can between the two and recoiling his arms back to his sides. However something prevented him from going far - a hand that trembled and still felt much too cold held onto the bottom of his sweater. Harry’s grip was weak - if Marcus wanted to break out of his grasp he easily could. Despite that he found himself unable to move. The distress on Harry’s face made it impossible for the perfect to look away.
“Please cuddle with me, it's so cold…” Harry pleads, voice barely loud enough to be heard.
Right away Marcus knew his answer, yet he still hesitated; his thoughts overpowering him and keeping him as still as a statue. Another violent cough from Harry prompts him to break free from his trance and take action. Marcus delicately climbs into the infirmary bed beside Harry, his long arms enveloping the Gryffindor and pulling him close. Harry settles his head on the Slytherin’s chest, eagerly hugging Marcus back as he snuggles into his warmth.
“Just so you know, I’m only doing this because the school would have my head if I just stood back and let you freeze to death.” Marcus states. “I personally hate this and can’t wait for it to be over.”
Regardless of the harsh words Marcus spoke he still held Harry close, his body relaxed as he absentmindedly stroked Harry’s hair. Marcus’s face was as red as the Gryffindor’s scarf as he glanced every which way except for where Harry lay. Harry smiled to himself, knowing full heartedly that Marcus was enjoying this just as much as he was.
Surrounded by his warmth, Harry felt his consciousness slipping away from him once more. This time he welcomed it, knowing that he was safe with Marcus watching over him.
For a second time Harry awakes in a different location then where he fell asleep. His groggy mind makes out that he’s being carried, strong arms supporting him bridal style as familiar walls blurr past him. He manages to catch a glimpse of a window, the sky outside dark and speckled with stars.
Harry’s body no longer feels deathly cold, but it’s still easily chilled by the icy wind sneaking its way into the school. He senses his warmth holding him and so he cuddles closer, burying his face in Marcus’s chest. In turn the Slytherin pulls him closer, making sure Harry is warm enough.
It doesn’t take long for them to arrive at the Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady was asleep in her portrait so Marcus forcefully cleared his throat to get her attention.
“Who on earth is causing a ruckus at this hour?” The Fat Lady jolts awake, annoyance distorting her face. “What the-?”
The woman’s voice trails off as she takes in the scene before her. Understanding wipes away her irritation, a fond smile shaping her lips.
“I heard what had happened to our young Potter - word travels fast with us portraits - and I’ve been worried sick all day. I’m glad to see he’s alright.” The Fat Lady speaks in a hushed voice as to not wake Harry. Said boy could not make out the conversation happening right in front of him, his mind dancing along the thin line between sleep and being awake.
“I’m glad too…” Marcus mumbles, shyly refusing to look at her or Harry
The Fat Lady chuckles, opening her portrait for the prefect. “I’m allowing you in under special conditions , so don’t think I’ll let you in any time you please.”
“I understand, thank you…” Marcus nods.
“Of course.” The Fat Lady’s smile falls as her expression grows serious. “You better take good care of him.”
“I will.” He reassures her.
“Good.” Her smile returns. “Now off to bed with you. It’s late and you both need the rest.”
Marcus enters the Gryffindor Tower, swiftly making his way to the dorms. It's easy for him to find Harry’s bed, as it's the only one with a pile of Slytherin clothes atop it. Marcus gently sets him down in his nest, pink covering his cheeks as he recognizes his clothes on Harry’s bed.
“I know your friends said you were stealing my stuff-” Marcus comments in disbelief. “but I’m still surprised you actually were…”
Marcus makes a move to leave, not quite ready to come to terms with the fact that Harry views him as a mate. However, his attempt to depart is thwarted; Harry’s hand lightly urging him to stay as he holds onto Marcus’s wrist.
“ Please don’t go…” Harry requests. “I don’t want you to leave me…”
Marcus attempts to replay with a definite no , except he can’t . Not when a half awake Harry is giving him the cutest puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen. The prefect feels his resolve slowly crumble apart under the boy’s expectant stare. That, combined with a part of Marcus that yearns to cuddle Harry more - a part that he will never admit to having, not even to himself - compels him to stay put.
“It’s okay.” Marcus whispers, softly freeing himself from Harry’s grasp to instead hold his hand. He gently strokes the other’s palm with his thumb, seeking to help the boy calm down. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
Slowly but surely, Marcus joins Harry in his nest. The Slytherin is careful not to disrupt the structure the Gryffindor had constructed, gently climbing in and finding a spot to lay down next to Harry. As soon as his head hits the pillow Harry is on top of him, face resting on the older boy’s chest; directly above his heart. Marcus pauses for a brief moment before wrapping his arms around Harry, securing him in place.
The steady beat of Marcus’s heart leisurely leads Harry back to sleep. A feeling of warmth and comfort envelopes the two boys as they doze off, feeling at peace in each other’s arms.
As Harry’s drowsy form begins to stir he’s greeted with shimmering rays of sunlight filtering through the window. It was now morning.
Harry hides his face in Marcus’s chest, shielding his eyes from the bright light. The Gryffindor’s foggy mind registers a faint pressure on his head. As his head clears he discerns that it’s the prefect’s hand tenderly petting his hair. In addition to the light strokes, the older boy is mumbling something. His words are too quiet and muddled together to make out, yet Harry is clearly able to catch I like you .
“What?” Harry questions in shock, lifting his head to look at Marcus. He’s extremely certain of what he heard, but he wants confirmation just in case he misunderstood.
The older boy’s face explodes with color, cheeks burning red as he stumbles over his words.
“I- um- ah-” Marcus attempts, visibly flustered and refusing to glance at Harry. “Don’t make me say it again…”
Harry studied the Slytherin’s face as he spoke, easily understanding that what he had heard was correct based on Marcus’s reaction.
“It's okay.” Harry reaches for one of the prefect’s hands, intertwining their fingers once found. “I like you too.”
The Gryffindor’s confession instills Marcus with the courage to finally meet Harry’s gaze. Green orbs meet dark ones as Marcus at long last lets himself speak honestly.
“I knew you took my sweater from the changing rooms.” The older boy confesses. “I happened to be stopping by to take my quidditch clothes to be washed, and I saw you go in and come back out with my sweater. I know you get cold easily so I didn’t say anything. But I didn’t see you wearing it so I purposely ‘lost’ different items so that you could use them to keep warm. The only thing I didn’t know was that you were using my clothes to make a nest…”
Neither move, simply letting a comfortable silence fill the space between them; each boy reflecting on the new found revelations.
Harry is the first to move, his hands moving to gently hold either side of the older boy’s face. The Gryffindor gradually shifts his face closer to the Slytherin’s, allowing enough time for Marcus to pull away if he desires. Even so, Marcus remains in place; letting Harry inch closer and closer until their lips meet. The kiss is brief and hesitant on both ends, yet love and affection are conveyed clearly through where their mouths touch.
When the two withdraw from each other they simply observe the other, taking in the other’s reddened cheeks and the endearment reflected in both their eyes. The pair linger in that moment for a little while longer before drawing close once again. Both of them hold each other closer, cuddling together as they exchange numerous kisses. Soft pecks litter each boy’s face; a feather light kiss to the lips, a fond smooch to the forehead, gentle pecks to both cheeks. The two students lose themselves in the tender moment, tuning out the outside world as they solely focus on the happiness they felt.
Regardless of the joy overwhelming Harry, his body was still tired. The younger boy pulls back briefly to yawn. A small smile tugs at the corners of Marcus’s lips, the older boy marveling at how cute his boyfriend looked when sleepy. Harry leans back in, planting tiny kisses on his warmth's face as he mumbles sweet words to him.
“ Ssssssssss ” Harry hisses. In his tired state he was unaware that he was speaking Parseltongue and not English. Nevertheless Marcus didn’t mind it one bit. In fact he found it extremely adorable - plus he loved simply hearing the language. Despite not knowing what was being said, Marcus could tell that the words were full of endearment based on Harry’s tone. The lovers stay that way for quite some time, enjoying the soft moment and their newly founded relationship.
A few days elapsed for the happy couple and before they knew it it was time for the Yule Ball. Harry arrives at the party with Marcus as his date. Both boys are dressed in elegant suits for the special occasion.
Familiar faces pass them by as they descend the stairs hand in hand and set foot on the ballroom floor. As they enter Harry notices Sirius and Remus standing and chatting nearby. The Gryffindor waves to them and the two men look over, excitedly waving back. Harry leads Marcus over to them, as happy to see the two again as they were to see him.
“I missed you!” Harry exclaims, releasing Marcus’s hand so that he can hug Sirius and Remus. The two return the embrace, smiles lighting up their faces.
“We missed you too.” Remus mentions. “Sirius wouldn’t shut up about how thrilled he was to attend this ball.”
Sirius lightly heartedly punches Remus’s arm, the movement playful and harmless.
“Remus missed you just as much, didn’t you Moony?” Sirius quips.
“That I did.” Remus admits. ”Now tell me Harry, what have you been up to since we last spoke?”
“I started dating Marcus.” Harry says, gesturing to the boy standing beside him.
A look of shock and surprise pass over the men’s faces - the two knew of Marcus’s mean behavior towards others. Yet in spite of that, Harry looked the happiest he has in quite some time and the fond gaze Marcus directed at Harry appeared genuine. Sirius and Remus quickly replace the startled expressions with their bright smiles from before - if Marcus made Harry happy then they’d accept their relationship, although begrudgingly.
“Congrats, my boy. We’re happy for you.” Remus says, lightly patting Harry’s shoulder.
“Oh what I would give to see the look on Snape’s face when he learns one of his Slytherin students is dating harry!” Sirius chuckles.
“Oh he already knows.” Marcus laughs. “Speaking of-”
Marcus ignores the astonished look on Sirius’s face, instead turning to face his boyfriend.
“-I have a present for you. Snape helped me get it.” Marcus pulls out a wrapped gift and hands it to Harry. “Merry Christmas, love.”
The Gryffindor carefully unwraps the box, finding something soft inside. He removes it to get a better view. It’s a Slytherin blanket made of a thick yet soft material.
“It's made of a fabric that keeps heat in. It will help you stay warm in the Winter.” Marcus explains.
Harry throws his arms around Marcus, hugging him tightly.
“I love it, thank you!” Harry presses a small kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. Harry pulls back and turns to Remus. “Can you hold this please?”
“Of course.” Remus takes the gift from Harry. “Have fun you two.”
Harry drags Marcus over to the dance floor, excitedly placing his hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder while the other holds the prefect’s hand. The two lovers spin and twirl, holding each other close as they dance to their heart’s content. Smiles never leave their face as their feet sway to the music. Harry and Marcus dance as if they were the only two in the room, too enraptured with each other to care about their surroundings.
After a couple songs the music briefly stops as the band takes a break. The couple awake from their trance, noticing they were standing underneath a mistletoe. Marcus leans down to kiss Harry, the younger boy eagerly kissing him back.
“ Ss ssss sss .” Harry hisses against his lips. Parseltongue for I love you.
“I love you too.”