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“It’s so fucking freezing here.”
“Of course it’s freezing. This is the Arctic, Potter, it’s supposed to be cold. Did you do any kind of research before Portkeying yourself to the northernmost part of Earth?” Malfoy said flatly, long legs not slowing their steps. “Did you even know where you’d be assigned when you volunteered yourself for this overseas mission?”
Harry wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, thickly layered with the Warming Charm he cast over it, and threw an annoyed look at Malfoy. Couldn’t the git just humour him a little? He did know where the Ministry was sending him, thank you very much, and he also did a little research—though maybe not from the source Malfoy or Hermione would approve. Of all people, he asked Ron about Lapland, and the redhead knowledgeably informed him that it was the home of Santa. Eager for an excuse for a getaway and intrigued by the promise of Christmas spirit, Harry applied for the assignment right away.
He had a feeling Malfoy wouldn’t be impressed by his attempt at research, so he shut his mouth and decided to ignore his question.
To be fair, Lapland was indeed beautiful, the perfect picture of a winter wonderland. Everything was white as far as his eyes could see, blanketed by the soft looking snow. In the clear day like this, the white ground almost glimmered beneath his feet, illuminated by the bright but gentle sunlight. Even in the deserted wilderness that was certainly not the Santa Village Harry had hoped to see, Lapland was very stunningly dream-like.
But, like Malfoy said, it was still the Arctic and the temperature was biting cold, especially in the last days of winter like this. The last time Harry checked before setting off on the journey on foot, it was about minus eleven degrees, but it certainly felt like it had only gotten colder since then. If the temperature was this low on a clear, bright day, Harry didn’t want to imagine how cold it could be when the weather wasn’t as friendly.
He glanced at Malfoy walking by his side. Even the thick and slippery snow under his fancy boots couldn’t hinder him from walking gracefully in his very distinctly aristocratic manner, and it annoyed Harry to no end. He had fallen down face first twice since they started investigating the area and slipped more than he cared to count. He was supposed to have the best balance in the entire DMLE, yet here was Malfoy steady on his feet as though he was strutting on a catwalk.
Not only that, it seemed like even the frosty coldness didn’t affect Malfoy. His muted grey cloak, although looked appropriate for a little hike on a snowy area, was considerably thinner than the one Harry desperately wrapped around himself. He didn’t shiver once or even show that he felt the coldness at all.
Maybe it was in his blood. Did the Malfoys originate from the Arctic? This one certainly looked like he belonged in the eternal winter. The color of his hair was so light it was almost matching the pure whiteness of the snow around them. Hell, it’s not just his hair, everything about Malfoy was icily pale. His eyes were a shade of grey Harry never saw in anyone else, and his skin was so fair it almost seemed translucent under bright light. And now he was wearing all grey attire as though he was intentionally trying to blend in.
Harry didn’t realize he was still ogling at his partner until the pair of eyebrows he was indiscreetly staring at with an absent thought of wow even his eyebrows are pale arched quizzically.
“Something’s the matter, Potter?” Malfoy asked, mildly irritated.
With a shake, Harry pulled himself out of his stupid thought. Or maybe Malfoy just had a secret Warming Charm that made him immune to ridiculously low temperature conditions.
“What kind of Warming Charm do you use?” he asked back, dodging his question.
Malfoy frowned at him, every bit of his expression silently telling Harry how much of a nuisance he was. “The Warming Charm we were all taught during our Auror training, of course.”
“It’s not strong enough.”
“You’re just weak,” Malfoy said and picked up his pace.
Trying to keep up, Harry fell down for the third time that afternoon with a yelp, the soft snow welcomed him with open arms. From where his limbs were heaped on the ground, he heard Malfoy sigh, long and impatient, as if his partner's suffering was too much of a bother for him. Despite that, Malfoy offered his gloved hand to help him up.
Harry took it, putting aside his embarrassment. “Just tell me your secrets, Malfoy, I’m about to die freezing here,” Harry huffed as he stood up and shrugged the snow on his cloak off.
Malfoy sighed again. "There's no secret, Potter," he said, his tone exasperated. "You just get used to it after several times."
Harry pursed his lips at that. He wouldn't admit it, but that was one of his illogical reasons to be sent up north for this mission. Lately, there had been increasing reports of traces of Dark Magic all over Europe. More often than not, the local authority would ask for assistance from the British Aurors considering their infamous expertise in handling Dark Magic. Just in the past couple months, Malfoy had been assigned this kind of overseas mission no less than a dozen times.
It’s not like Harry was jealous of his colleague. Okay, maybe he was a little jealous, because how could Malfoy get to visit practically every corner of Europe while Harry had to patrol back and forth in Diagon Alley to be what they called the face of MLE ? But other than that, the idea of dealing with Dark Magic in a new place promised him an exciting adventure.
However, even that simple wish was crushed as soon as he voiced it to his partner before their departure.
“It would hardly be exciting, Potter,” Malfoy had said to him with raised eyebrows. “There was one terrorist attack using Dark Magic in Rome a few months ago and since then people keep sending in false reports. They are all convinced there is some secret cult of Dark Magic users, which I highly doubt is more than a mere conspiracy theory,” he explained, sounding very bored. “Our job will just be walking around the reported area and confirming that it is indeed a false alarm. This is a job no one wants, Potter, you’d miss your fun little patrol with your fawning fans as soon as we arrive there.”
If Harry had to be honest, he did miss his patrol. Certainly not for the fawning fans, as Malfoy had said it, but at least in Diagon Alley he didn’t feel as if every single one of his toes would fall off frozen. He hadn’t yet decided if the stunning scenery in front of him was worth the numb feeling in all his limbs at the moment.
“Can we start walking again or you’re still not done regretting your stupid life choices?” Malfoy said impatiently, bringing him back to the present time. The question was evidently rhetorical as he set off without waiting for Harry’s answer.
“Wait,” Harry called as he hurriedly chased him.
They spent the next hour walking around what could probably be lush woods if only there was less snow and more green leaves, Harry cursing under his breath every time a cold wind swept them and Malfoy wisely ignoring him. At one point, Harry asked him to stop for a minute because his body was shivering too much to cast a new Warming Charm while moving. Malfoy obliged, but not without voicing his irritation.
“I don’t know about you, Potter, but I’d like to finish this job before dark, which, in case you missed it in your research, will fall in less than two hours.”
After tripling his layers of Warming Charm, Harry regarded him, “it’s barely 1 p.m.”
“Yes, and it’s also January,” Malfoy said, his face remained impassive.
Harry groaned tiredly, just thinking of being outside in the dark with this temperature gave him a shudder. “I don’t get it, Malfoy. You said this is a job that no one wants, but why do you always take it? It’s pointless, a total waste of energy, and it’s. Fucking. Freezing .”
“Well, I get paid to do it and the job is easy. It’s not entirely pointless,” he shrugged. “Also, traveling abroad is fun. People are generally nicer in… everywhere outside Britain, I guess. Not that you would understand, though.”
Harry hummed quietly in response. Even if he couldn’t completely understand, at least in the sense Malfoy was implying, he could still sympathize with the man. It had been long enough after the war but many people were still hostile toward him and others with the Dark Mark. It made sense if Malfoy saw the opportunity of overseas missions as his temporary escape.
“And the cold never bothers me anyway,” Malfoy added.
Raising his eyebrows high, Harry stared at him. “Did you just,” he deadpanned, “quote Elsa from that Frozen movie?”
A blush crept onto those pale cheeks. Malfoy scoffed. “I have not the slightest idea of what you’re talking about, Potter.” He turned around and continued to walk, his soft grey robe billowing from the chilly wind. It unsettlingly reminded him of the late Severus Snape.
Harry walked faster and caught up to him, his breath coming out in white puffs, feeling suddenly energized. “Liar. I know you watched that movie with Teddy. He told me.”
Malfoy didn’t turn to him again but Harry could hear he muttered to himself “that little traitor.” Harry grinned to himself.
“He even told me how you passionately reenacted the Let It Go scene, you know.”
“I would never,” Malfoy denied quickly, the blush on his cheeks turned a darker shade of red.
Harry’s grin widened. Malfoy could act impassive and untouchable all he wanted at work, but he knew the blond had a special soft spot for his cousin. He could never deny the child anything he asked, and Harry was amused to find out that Teddy asked a lot from his favorite cousin. When Teddy was old enough to demand things from the adults around him, he asked Malfoy to bring him to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes every week. Not wanting to deal with Ron, Malfoy coaxed him to go with Harry instead, which the toddler immediately refused with a tantrum. “New toys with Dwwaco!” he demanded. Harry had been jealous and a little bitter at the time, feeling his own godson chose Malfoy over him, but he soon found it endearing how Teddy had the cold man wrapped around his tiny fingers.
So, of course, after Teddy outgrew his phase of playing with toys all day, he had to drag Malfoy into his new source of entertainment. Lately, it was Muggle animations. The small boy was obsessed with Disney movies, and from the stories he enthusiastically told him, Harry had a suspicion that Malfoy might even be a bigger fan. Malfoy would never admit it without being forced to take Veritaserum, but that didn’t stop Harry from teasing him.
“It’s fitting, you know, you as Elsa,” Harry teased. “You have the same hair color. Have you ever considered growing it long enough to braid it?”
“Kindly shut up, Potter.”
Snickering to himself, Harry shook his head. Malfoy was just too easy sometimes.
“I know it! The cold doesn’t bother you because you secretly have this ice power but you’re hiding it,” he went on. “How does it go… conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know ?”
Malfoy sighed, making a big puff of white breath.
“Well, now I know ,” Harry continued to sing, purposely off key just to piss him off further.
“Can you not—” Malfoy rubbed his temple exasperatedly. “You’re infuriating enough without a sound, Potter.”
Harry, of course, ignored him in order to finish his solo sing off, adding some hand movements to pretend he was controlling the snow around them. “Let it go! Let it go! Turn away and shut the door! ”
“It’s slam the door , you cretin!”
Malfoy looked so offended and cross that Harry had to stop walking again to guffaw at him. At times like this, he could almost understand why Teddy loved this man so much. He was really interesting and weird, and it was an odd delight being around him.
As Harry’s laugh died down, Malfoy let out another long sigh. “Now that you seem out of danger of freezing to death, can we please start moving again, Potter?” he said before adding in a low voice, “I don’t get paid enough for this, this task is supposed to be easy.”
Still amused, Harry reached out to pat his shoulder before walking away, leading their investigation with a pleased smile on his face. Malfoy was right, they had to finish sweeping the entire area before dark and the temperature dropped even lower.
But, not five minutes later, something stopped Harry in his tracks. Malfoy who was close on his tail bumped into his back.
“What the fuck, Potter?” he snapped. “Can you not randomly—”
“Malfoy,” Harry cut him. “I think that is it.”
“That is what?”
“The Dark Magic,” he breathed. “Look!”
Swiftly, Malfoy moved around him to see what Harry was seeing. In front of them, suspended in the air, were thousands of tiny magical orbs, glittering and reflecting the sunlight. It was not like anything Harry had ever seen. The little glitters were moving around in the air—or they were falling, Harry couldn’t be sure, their movements were too slow. The beauty of the scenery around them suddenly multiplied drastically with the flickering orbs, making it look almost eerie, radiating what felt like an ominous energy with how breathtaking it was.
“Potter,” Malfoy called, his voice sounded very close.
Harry, still mesmerized by the stunning glitters raining from the sky, failed to answer him.
“Snap out of it, Potter, it’s not Dark Magic.” Harry turned to Malfoy when he felt a hand on his upper arm. “You’re overreacting, it’s just diamond dust.”
“Diamond dust?”
“If you can’t properly cast a Warming Charm like a good wizard, you should at least learn a thing or two about Muggle science,” Malfoy mocked him without malice. “Yes, Potter, diamond dust. They are just ice crystals formed near the ground. Apparently today is cold and clear enough for them to form.”
“They’re…,” Harry breathed, “surreal.”
Malfoy hummed quietly in affirmation. “Yeah, beautiful, aren’t they?” he said as he began walking toward the suspended fog of twinkling crystals. “This is not very common, though. It’s a pity we didn’t bring a camera with us. Teddy would love to see this.”
Slowly, Harry trailed after him, watching the foreign looking diamond dust floating around them. They looked even more remarkable up close. The ice crystals were so tiny, yet from the way they sparkled softly, it was as if every single one of them had a life of their own. Harry never had anything so effortlessly take his breath away like this, at least not since the first time he was introduced to magic when he was eleven. This certainly felt like a strange form of magic to him.
“Potter!”
Harry hadn’t even found a strong enough adjective to describe the beautiful scenery in front of him in itself, and he was absolutely not ready for what greeted him as he turned around. Malfoy was a few meters from him, standing tall among the ice crystals. His platinum blond hair was shining gently under the bright sunlight, looking almost otherworldly with the all-white background of the neverending snow. Framed by the light hair was his face, as pale as ever, but the scowl he sported the entire afternoon was gone. In its place was a delighted smile, open and genuine, and Harry was rendered completely speechless. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Malfoy like this. He looked like he came straight out of a fairy-tale.
Malfoy’s smile just widened when he noticed he’d gotten Harry’s attention. With deliberate slowness, he produced his wand from his sleeve and started waving it around in the most graceful movement Harry could dare to imagine. He felt his breath hitch as the ice crystals swirled around Malfoy, obeying whatever command the man gave them.
Maybe it was his tiredness, or maybe it was the cold numbing his brain, but Harry could not explain the wild fluttering he felt in his stomach at the sight. He knew Malfoy was not in any way ugly—far from it actually—but now, suspended in the glittering ice fog, the blond man looked extremely ethereal .
As the crystals continued to merrily swirl around him, Malfoy laughed, delighted. He waved his wand again here and there, making the crystals dance in an odd but constant rhythm. With his wand not ceasing its movement, he outstretched his free hand to beckon to Harry to come closer, his own body swaying softly as if he was dancing along with the diamond dust.
Harry felt he was under a spell, dazedly following Malfoy’s silent instruction in addled steps, his eyes never leaving his smiling face. He couldn’t be sure if it was the diamond dust around him, or Malfoy cast a spell on himself, or maybe Harry’s eyes were playing tricks on him, but Malfoy's entire being was sparkling and glowing. The sight was so beautiful Harry felt dizzy.
He didn’t stop until he was right in Malfoy’s personal space. The blond man didn’t seem to mind as he met his eyes, his own crinkling slightly in the corners from his smile. Vaguely, Harry noticed Malfoy’s lips—red in contrast to his pale white skin—moved, but no voice was heard.
The lips moved and moved, forming bizarrely lovely shapes. Harry’s eyes were glued to them, passionately following every tiny stretching and pursing.
Harry didn’t know how long he stared at those lips, but at one point, they seemed to slowly get closer. They stopped, as though uncertain, and then moved closer still. They got so close that Harry had to look up to find a pair of pale eyes boring into his own, fierce and intense.
Those grey eyes fluttered shut and Harry followed their lead.
And there it was, the gentlest pressure on his lips, soft and sweet.
The lips pressing against his were gone faster than Harry would like, so he let his instinct lead him to lean forward, chasing them. The pressure was instantly back again, firmer this time.
After a moment, Malfoy chuckled softly against his lips and the sound suddenly brought Harry back to reality.
He pulled back abruptly, eyes wide. Malfoy regarded him with a smirk and tilted head.
What the fuck just happened?
Malfoy kissed him, and he kissed him back. No, he demanded more kisses from him. This must be a dream. The cold must have gotten to his head. Harry’s brain reeled as he stared bemusedly at the smirking man in front of him.
“Back to Earth, Potter?” Malfoy asked, his tone almost playful.
“Uh,” Harry replied eloquently, fingers raised to touch his tingling lips. “What?”
Malfoy shook his head with a snort, his smirk softened into a gentle smile. “Come on, there’s some Dark Magic to be identified,” he said and began walking away, leaving Harry standing dumbly, still staring at his retreating figure.
It took Harry no less than ten seconds to kick his brain into functioning again. Snapping himself out of his dazed state, he scrambled to follow the graceful steps of Draco Malfoy, slipping on the slippery snow and almost falling for the fourth time that afternoon.
A smile formed on his face as the strange realization hit him. He felt a lot better than before, warmth spread from his core to every inch of his body. Just like the Snow Queen, Malfoy’s kiss numbed him to the cold.