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Draco dragged Harry down Diagon Alley. His gleaming grey eyes missed nothing. In Flourish and Blotts, he seized the only copy of Memories of a Potions Dilettante from the claws of a hag. In Tamsin's Toys, he grabbed the last box of Harry and His Dragon Magical Lego, sending a ten-year-old boy crying to his mother.
Store after store, Draco bought gift after gift. For Malfoys and Lupins and Tonks. For Parkinsons and Zabinis and even Weasleys. Draco piled bag upon bag onto Harry, looping them around his wrists and hooking them over his shoulders.
Twisting them around his neck.
"Argh!" Harry screamed and sat bolt upright in bed. Shaking, he patted at his neck.
Severus was instantly awake, wand in hand, pushing Harry behind him and scanning the room. At his Lumos, the lights flared on.
"What the hell?" Draco growled. "It's—" he glanced at the clock "—three o'clock in the morning. And I have to work tomorrow."
Apparently satisfied with their safety, Severus drew Harry into his arms. "What happened?"
Harry shuddered and rubbed at his scar, a habit he couldn't break.
Draco cursed, and then Harry was held and reassured by both of his partners.
"Didn't your visions end with the Dark Lord," Draco said.
Confused, Harry frowned and asked, "Visions?" simultaneously with Severus', "They did."
"Another flashback?"
Flushing and hunching his shoulders, Harry mumbled into his bent knees.
"Harry," Draco's voice was soft, "Talking always helps, remember."
Severus stroked Harry's back.
"Nightmare," Harry repeated.
"About th—"
"About you."
"Me?" Draco sounded insulted, as if he'd never been anything but sweetness and light to Harry.
"Bloody Christmas shopping. Strangling me with bags."
Severus chuckled, Draco laughed exuberantly, and Harry decided they'd both better make it up to him. They were already awake, after all.