Dan's first Christmas at Hogwarts.

~

“So?” Chris asked, grabbing Phil’s robes as he attempted to walk past Chris in the corridor.

Phil blanched. “What?”

“How was your romantic gardening trip with Dan? Come to think of it, how did you cope showering in the cubicle next to him? You struggle containing yourself when you’re both clothed so I imagine it was pitiful.” Chris grinned, pulling Phil into step beside him as they walked to charms.

“What are you talking about?” Phil said irritably. “You made us use the prefects’ bathroom, remember?”

“Yeah, but I’m assuming you used the showers rather than that big ol’ romantic bathtub.” Chris laughed.

“What showers?!” Phil said, his voice raising an octave.

Chris’s eyebrows shot up into his forehead. “Oh my god.” His expression was incredulous. “Did you share a bubble bath with Daniel Howell? Thirteen year old Daniel Howell?”

“What showers?” Phil insisted. “And he’s fourteen, he told me. He redid a year so he’ll be fifteen in June, actually.”

“The showers round the corner,” Chris’s face was alight with delight, a huge grin across his face. “You did didn’t you. Please tell me you were naked as well. Oh my god.”

“Well how else would we take a bath?!” Phil said defensively, his cheeks burning.

“Oh, I don’t know. One at a time maybe? Or you know, you could have kept your boxers on or got some swimming trunks or something. Jesus Christ Phil,” Chris shook his head in gleeful disbelief. “What happened? You’re going to have to tell me everything.”

“Nothing happened,” Phil muttered, “We’re not gay, we just shared a bath because we didn’t see the showers.”

“Right.”

“I hate you. This is all your fault, I bet there weren’t even any first years in the bathrooms.”

“Course not. But that’s what friends are for. Now, I’m going to ask you again, and this time you’re going to tell me the truth. I can tell when you’re lying, Philip.” Chris grabbed Phil’s face, staring intently into his eyes for a moment and scrutinizing. Suddenly, he whooped. “You did didn’t you! I knew it! You and Dan Howell. You know Phil, I’d always known you were a little bit gay.”

“I’m not gay,” Phil moaned. “Nor’s Dan. We just kissed. That’s all I swear. It was more, experimental really, than anything else. We’re just friends. Messing about. Very affectionate friends.” Phil couldn’t help but snigger a bit at the memory.

Chris’s face looked like he’d just been told Christmas was coming early. “This is the best thing I’ve heard all year. My baby Phil is gayer than even I, and he’s got some cute little toyboy to give him sensual bubble bath massages. I can’t wait to tell everyone.”

“No!” Phil yelped. “Don’t you dare. Please Chris, don’t do that, I think I’d die. We’re not gay. We’ve both agreed. We, well, if you must know, we’ve decided to be sort of together until it wears off. Not as boyfriends or anything. Just like cuddly friends because neither of us have ever felt like this, it’s not actual attraction or anything. It’s probably just hormones…”

“Phil,”

“And like, we both know it’s not like that. I mean it doesn’t feel anything like it did with Suzie…”

“Phil,”

“Like I know what attraction feels like, this is completely different I swear…”

“Phil,”

“Me and Dan, we’re just being friendly. We don’t see each other much so we’re just making the most of the time we have and not worrying too much about labels you know?”

“Phil.”

“What?”

“You gaaaay.”

“I’m not gay!”

“You gay as hell.”

“Chris! Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?”

“I’ve been listening, and honey you gaaaaaaay.” Chris sung.

“Chris.” Phil groaned.

“Listen up sonny, I’m about to give you some brotherly best friend advice.” Chris grinned, pulling Phil to an abrupt stop and into a broom cupboard. Quickly, he lit his wand and closed the door behind them before anyone noticed. It smelled faintly of cleaning polish, and the air was musty.

Chris brushed a cobweb out of his hair and pointed his wand at Phil, illuminating his wide eyes. “We both know I’ve had a lot more experience in the love department, so unclog your ears and open your mind for a moment,” The mocking tone had left his voice. “To prove I was listening, here are some choice quotes: ‘none of us have ever felt like this’ and ‘it doesn’t feel anything like it did with Suzie’. May I remind you that you were not happy with Suzie. That was not a happy or healthy relationship, and it ended badly, yet somehow you didn’t seem too upset. That wasn’t love. That wasn’t even attraction I don’t think, I mean, you had to ask us if she was pretty or not. Your feelings for Daniel must be very strong, judging by the extent of your excitement and the incredible speed. Trust me, I’ve been in love with PJ Liguori for three years now. I know what it feels like. You may be bisexual, but you’re not straight. The feelings you have for Dan are real – don’t devalue them by pretending they don’t matter. I’ve never seen two people fall for each other so quickly and so absolutely before, you’ve got something special, and you need to go into it knowing that so that you can both get the absolute most out of it because love sucks most of the time, and you’ve got lucky.”

Phil was silent for a moment, shocked at the intensity of Chris’s gaze.

“Are, are you sure?” He asked, his voice faltering.

“Positive. You have feelings for Dan, and he shares them. Acknowledge it. Accept it. Embrace the homosexuality.” Chris’s familiar grin returned to his face.

“Okay. Wow. Maybe you’re right. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. What do I do now?” Phil’s eyes were wide and slightly scared, and all of a sudden Chris pulled him into an embrace.

“I’m really happy for you okay,” Chris said, his voice gruff. “You need to talk to him. You need to ask him out properly. And then you need to send a bit of your luck my way, because really you’ve had far too much.”

Phil felt almost as if he should be tearing up. “Wow. This is emotional.”

“Yep,” Chris said, sniffing dramatically. “That’s enough serious Chris for now. So, you’ve seen him naked now huh. How big is his dick?”

“Chris.”

~

Christmas day dawned bright and clear, a fresh layer of snow settled on the grounds. A happy morning was spent eating reindeer shaped pancakes and exchanging presents. Dan had spent many hours learning a knitting spell, and had knitted Phil a long (if slightly lumpy in places) blue and green scarf, with tiny Christmas baubles at each end instead of tassels that jingled the tune of Jingle Bells as he walked. Dan had eventually given in and asked Phil for a wizards chess set but Phil, never content with normal, had bought him an ‘Animals of the Forest’ set – complete with unicorn knights and a long-haired mermaid queen.

Phil had helped Dan pick out simple things like sweets and quills for the rest of their group, and these were returned on the most part, but Chris had excelled himself and presented the new couple with a joint present: a huge box of Every Flavour Condoms.

Still recoiling in horror (and blanching slightly at the thought of vomit flavoured condoms), the large group set off cheerfully down to the Great Hall for Christmas lunch. Dan had knitted Chris a scarf too, almost blindingly hot pink, which he wore with pride and an occasional snigger. Dan had the feeling this was going to be the best Christmas he’d ever had. His parents had sounded upset when he’d told them he was staying, but he knew it would be a relief as they were planning to visit family in Wales - which they would have had to cut short to bring him back to Hogwarts in time for the start of term. Phil’s parents were in the North Pole studying magnetic fields and the Northern Lights that had baffled muggles for years, while Chris’s large family had all headed off to sunny Spain without him – much to his disgust. Carrie and Charlie had stayed too, and together they took their place on the one, huge table that had been pushed together in honour of the occasion.

A hundred, fat, roast turkeys, mountains of roast and boiled potatoes platters of fat chipolatas, tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich, gravy and cranberry sauce – and stacks of wizard crackers every few inches along the table. Phil pulled a cracker with Chris and it went off with a blast, engulfing them in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear-admirals hat and several live, white mice. Up on the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard’s hat for a flowered bonnet and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read to him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey, Phil nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. Dan watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, before finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek who, to Dan’s amazement, giggled and blushed, her top had lop-sided.

When Dan and Phil finally left the table, they were laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of luminous balloons, a grow-your-own-warts kit and a brand new pointed wizard’s hat that Dan absolutely did not trust to put on his head - mainly due to the strange blue smoke wafting from the tip with a strong smell of eggs. The white mice had disappeared, and Dan had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs Norris’ Christmas dinner.

The small group spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight in the grounds. Then, cold, wet and gasping for breath, they returned to the crackling fire in the Hufflepuff common room. Full of turkey and cake however it wasn’t long before they had drifted sleepily one by one back to their dormitories to nap before the ball. Dan lingered longest, curled up on the sofa in front of the fire with Phil.

“Mm too sleepy to go back. I’m gonna sleep here. Night night.”

Phil chuckled, running his fingers gently through Dan’s tangled, still damp hair. They were cuddled close together, Dan nestled comfortably against Phil’s chest, Phil’s legs entwined in Dan’s.

“You’ll get in trouble if you stay here,” Phil said softly, his breath warm on Dan’s neck.

“But I’m warm.” Dan complained.

“Me too. You’re like a cuddly little hot water bottle.”

“Oi, I’m nearly as tall as you. And I’m still growing.” Dan pouted.

“My little baby.” Phil crooned, pretending to rock Dan in his arms.

Dan dissolved into giggles, too sleepy to open his eyes. “I’ll go if you carry me.”

“I’m not carrying you all the way to the dungeons, you’re way too fat for me.”

“Nah, you’re just too scrawny. Maybe just levitate the sofa to my bed for me then.”

“I would, but then I’d have to go with you and the corridors are really cold. You’re going to have to get up and walk I’m afraid.” Phil made no attempt to push Dan away however, holding him closer even.

“You’re mean,” Dan mumbled, “I don’t have any shoes on.”

“That’s because you put them by the fire to dry, remember?”

“And then they caught fire because Chris is an idiot.”

“And then I put them out because I am a magical genius.”

“They smell funny now though, I don’t want to put them on.” Dan’s voice was muffled by a puffy, red cushion.

“So you’re going to walk all the way through those cold, stone corridors in your socks then?”

“No, you’re going to carry me.”

“No, I’m going to push you off onto the cold floor.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.”

“No you’re not, you’re going to carry me to your bed so we can go to sleep without having to let go.” Dan smiled happily into the fabric of the sofa.

“And you call me the soppy one.” Phil rolled his eyes.

“Pleeeeease. It’s Christmas! They won’t punish us on Christmas.”

“Do you think?”

“I think.”

“Careful, you might hurt yourself.”

“Shush you Mr fifth-year-amazing-magic-person.”

“I’m not sure the other boys in my dorm would be too impressed though.” Phil smiled.

“They’re sleeping or out. They won’t know. We’ll be quiet as mice.”

“Stop tempting me.”

“Never.”

Phil sighed, breathing in the sweet smell of Dan’s hair. “You’ll still have to go back to get changed for tonight, you realise.”

“Yeeeey!”

“Shh!”

“Oww why do we have to get up.”

“The bed is up a whole flight of stairs.”

“No.”

“Yes. I’m not carrying you. Come one.”

“But it’s cold!”

“Just think about how warm and cosy it will be in bed.”

“Ow.”

“Get up.”

“I’ve lost a sock.”

“Come on.”

“No! The stone’s too cold, I can’t go up the stairs.”

“Yes you can.”

“No I can’t, my foot hurts.”

“Why does your foot hurt?”

“Sports injury.”

Phil snorted. “I’m not carrying you, I’ll probably brake both our backs falling down.”

“I mean it Phil, I can’t walk.”

“Yes you can.”

“I can’t. I’m going to have to stay down here on my own all night, and when they ask me why I’m in the wrong house I’ll tell them it’s because I’m crippled but you were too heartless to help me.”

“We are going to die.”

“I’m flying Phil!”

~

They tumbled together into the four poster, Phil out of breath and red in the face. Quickly, Dan pulled the hangings around them as he noticed the shape in the next bed stir. Phil grinned, still panting, and tugged at Dan’s robes to bring him crashing down into the bed with a soft thwump of fabric. Dan nuzzled into Phil’s neck, squirming on the cold sheets. Phil was shivering too, pulling the blankets over them and pressing himself as much into Dan as Dan was pushing against Phil.

Phil kissed Dan’s hair. Stray tendrils tickled his nose as he breathed, and he tried in vain to push the tousled mop away from his mouth as he spat out yet another one of Dan’s soft, brown hairs. Dan was oblivious, his face buried into the warmth of Phil’s neck. His breath was tickling the delicate skin, and Phil pushed him away with a giggle.

“You’re so annoying,” he murmured. “Spoon like a normal person. Backward spoons are very impractical.”

Sure enough, Dan had curled into the foetal position while facing Phil – with the effect that his legs pushed Phil away from him and his knees dug painfully into Phil’s stomach. With a sigh, Dan rolled over and let Phil wrap his arms around his waist. After a moment, he changed his mind and forcibly rolled them back over again so that he could be big spoon. Phil rolled his eyes, but smiled at the warm encasing of Dan’s arms and the pressure of his body against his back. It felt incredibly safe somehow. Gently, he kissed Dan’s hand.

Dan mumbled something inaudible in response, but already they were slipping into sleep.

~

“Shit, Dan, we’ve got half an hour before the ball. Wake up Dan!”

Dan mumbled something incoherent, rolling back over with a snore.

With a grim expression, Phil pressed his hands against Dan’s shoulders and heaved – rolling him tumbling onto the floor in a tangle of bed curtains and sheets.

Somewhere in the mess, Dan swore groggily. “I hate you.”

“Wake up,” Phil said urgently. “We’ve got half an hour to get ready, and you still have to get back to your dormitory.”

Dan groaned loudly. Ignoring him, Phil tugged off his crumpled clothes and searched frantically for his dress robes. They were coal black, with simple blue trimming and detailing. He struggled half-heartedly with bowtie, before giving up and smoothing down the collar of his pale blue shirt. Before he could cast aside the scrap of navy fabric however, slender hands were at his neck, tying the bow expertly and pulling it tight.

“Looking dapper, Philip.” Dan’s voice was low, still hoarse with sleep, and Phil shivered.

“You need to go get ready,” Phil replied, pulling his cloak around his shoulders. “We now have twenty minutes. I want my date looking sharp.”

Dan’s smile faded, replaced with an expression of uncertainty rippled with lines of anxiety.

“Oh god. Are you sure I can come? There’s no way of hiding it, third years are only allowed if they’ve got a date. There’s no way we can pass this off as platonic.”

Phil shrugged. “Technically, it’s about the age thing so you’re a fourth year. Don’t worry. You look a lot older, I don’t think anyone will think we’re together – they’ll think you’re my year probably.”

Dan nodded, but the worry was still in his eyes. “I’m gonna look like such a prick in my dress robes.”

Phil grinned. “I can’t wait. I haven’t seen them yet, are they awful? I reckon you’ll look fine whatever they are. You’re pretty hot, you know. No one will even notice.”

This had the desired effect, and Dan’s cheeks reddened. He smiled, kissed Phil quickly on the cheek, and slipped down the stairs in his pink kitten patterned socks to fetch his shoes.

~

Dan was waiting for Phil at the bottom of the marble stairs, pulling fretfully at his black, shiny bowtie.

“Daniel,” Phil said as he drew closer, squinting. “Is that a leather bowtie?”

Dan grinned guiltily. “Maybe. Oh god. I’m stupidly nervous. Why am I here?! I’m really not a party person anyway. What are we going to do if they make us dance Phil? We can’t dance together. Well, I can’t dance at all-”

He was cut off suddenly as Phil pressed a finger against his lips with a ‘shush’.

“Stop. It’s going to be fun. I promise. And if you’re not having fun, we can escape. Don’t worry – they’re not going to point their wands at us and make us dance. By the way, you look gorgeous.” Phil made a show of looking Dan up and down, and Dan blushed.

His dress robes were sleek and black, the fabric thinner somehow than everyone else’s. It rippled and swished deliciously as he moved. The cloak was sealed with an ornate but subtle silver clasp, and the robes were trimmed with silver thread and intricate embroidery that glittered in the light. He fiddled awkwardly with his cufflinks, his face downturned in embarrassment, and Phil giggled as he took his arm and dragged him into the Great Hall.

The walls had been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The house tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred, smaller, lantern-lit tables, each seating a dozen people. Dan and Phil joined the thronging crowd, searching on tiptoes for their friends. All at once the buzz of voices swelled and the crowd parted to let the four champions through. It was easy to see how these people had been chosen above everyone else; they couldn’t possibly be human. Radiating beauty poured off all four couples (with the exception possibly of a scrawny, black haired Gryffindor who blushed furiously when he spotted them – having last stumbled across the pair with considerably less clothing on). They made their way up to the top table with a sweeping of long robes and eight graceful gaits.

Phil caught sight of Chris at a table and led Dan over quickly before the spare seats could be filled. To Dan’s delight, Chris was still wearing his pink scarf – concealed not so subtly under his robes. He thrust his chest out with a wink when he saw Dan, highlighting the shock of pink all the more. It was at this moment however that Professor Dumbledore swept past, in robes of shimmering silver, and he crooked his head ever so slightly to murmur ‘nice scarf’ as he passed. Chris glowed as pink as the wool around his neck, and sat down abruptly.

Carrie’s robes were not so much robes as a red and white polka dot dress that spread out in a full circle as she spun. Her hair was shining and her lips were as red as her dress, and Phil grinned to see a skinny Durmstrang boy at her arm.

“It’s Alex, right?” Phil said, shaking his hand.

Alex was wearing robes of shocking black and white in geometric patterns that gave Dan a headache as he stared. He had a bright blue bowtie and a tight fitting maroon waistcoat under his robes, and Carrie was positively beaming as she pulled her chair closer to him. He laughed easily and loudly, and his smile seemed to be contagious.

The meal was delicious of course, but Dan had the feeling most of the hall were still full from Christmas lunch, as many of the plates were left half full with their owners eyeing the untasted wonders sadly yet hopelessly. Up next however was what Dan had allowed Phil to drag him here for: the Weird Sisters had been booked to perform, and as everyone got excitedly to their feet the band traipsed on stage to a rapturous applause.

They were all incredibly hairy, and were wearing black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. The champions assembled somewhat reluctantly in the centre of the room, and they struck up a mournful tune. It wasn’t long before teachers and students alike were slipping nervously on to the dance floor, rotating tentatively and blushing furiously at their dates. Carrie and Alex were dancing enthusiastically, but apparently to a completely different song to the one playing, and Chris wasted no time in starting a conga line.

Charlie stood with Dan and Phil, watching the show. Dan hadn’t really had much of a chance to get to know Charlie, but from his floppy fringe and gentle, quiet nature, Dan knew they’d get along.

“Are you two going to dance?” He asked with a smile.

“Nah, we don’t want to, you know...” Phil shrugged.

“I think you should,” Charlie said. “No one’s going to say anything with all the teachers here. It’s the best time to do it really, it gives time for people to get used to it.”

Phil turned uncertainly to Dan.

Dan shook his head, his eyes wide. “I can’t actually dance, so it really wouldn’t work.”

“It’s up to you of course, but you shouldn’t waste your evening just standing at the edge of it all. Enjoy yourself. It’s not every year you get to go to a ball.” With that, Charlie had excused himself and made his was over to a table full of Gryffindors.

Phil turned to Dan. “What do you reckon? I can’t dance either, but he’s right.”

Dan still looked unsure, but Phil took his hand. “There,” he said softly. “That’s the worst of it over with. Will you take this dance?”

Suddenly, Dan grinned. The magic of Christmas and the free, bubbling atmosphere seemed to have gone to his head and he took Phil’s other hand, letting him lead them right out to the centre of the dance floor. They stared at each other for a moment, standing close, then Dan rested his hands gently in the soft curves of Phil’s waist. Slowly, they began to dance, and all around them couples twirled.

People stared, and a few whispered comments to their friends, but it wasn’t as bad as Dan had thought. Perhaps they were given a wider berth than the other couples, but that was probably because no one wanted to risk getting trampled by their terrible dancing.

Two girls in pink, floaty robes stopped dead in the floor to stare. They made no attempt to hide their disgust, and struck up a loud and pointed conversation about the ‘type of repulsive practices Hogwarts allowed to carry on these days’; but their discussion was cut short abruptly as Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall tangoed very determinedly towards them, forcing them to scatter to avoid being run over. It might have been his imagination, but Dan was sure Dumbledore flashed him a wink as he passed.

~

After a particularly vigorous number, they retreated flushed in the face to find a drink. Chris was at the table, talking animatedly to two identical ginger haired twins. Dan and Phil and made their introductions, gulping back icy punch that slid deliciously down their throats. They were just discussing the strange, lute-like instrument one of the band members were playing when the colour drained abruptly from Chris’s cheeks. He was frozen to the spot, apparently completely paralysed, staring wide eyed and open mouthed at something over Dan’s shoulder.

“Oh my god.” He whispered.

Dan whipped round.

Heading straight towards them was none other than PJ Liguori, cloaked in midnight blue robes and a tight fitting black shirt. His skin was gloriously tanned and his hair somehow seemed even more luscious than usual. He ignored Dan and Phil, stopping instead directly in front of Chris, his green eyes glittering in the candlelight. His lips spread into a heart melting crooked grin, and he looked steadily into Chris’s eyes.

His voice was low and husky and impossibly rich.

“Would you like to dance?”