Where the Heart Is

When Draco came home on the evening of the 23rd of December, wet and cold and grumpy after a long day at work, he was greeted by the sight of Harry Potter decorating a huge, slightly lopsided Christmas tree.

He shrugged off his damp coat, stepped out of his soaked boots and approached Harry, who hadn't noticed him yet, with a sort of wary interest.

"Potter, what on earth are you still doing here?"

Harry turned around and gave him a brilliant smile. "I'm decorating the tree I bought for Christmas. You said you weren't going to get one, so I thought..."

Draco cut him off. "I can see what you're doing. When I asked what you were still doing here, I meant to ask why you were still here in the first place."

Harry's smile faded. "Don't you want me here for Christmas?"

"That's not the point. Do I have to remind you that you have the whole Weasel clan plus extensions awaiting the return of their favourite hero for the holidays? You know, those redheads who fawn over your every move and don't know that the real reason behind your frequent trips to the continent is the fact that you're shagging an exiled ex-Death Eater?"

"I sent them an owl three days ago." Harry was watching him with an expression Draco couldn't interpret. "I wrote that I'd stay here for the holidays. I whish I could have told them why, but..."

Draco held up his hand. "Harry, we've been over this a dozen times. I will not let you disclose my whereabouts to anyone in wizarding Britain. I know the war is over, but you know my reasons for not going back. Everyone there thinks I'm dead, and I'm determined to keep it that way, even if it means I'll have to spend the rest of my life among Muggles."

Harry sighed. "I know, I know. Stop fretting, I didn't tell them anything about you."

"Then what did you tell them?"

"That I liked it here and wanted to spend a quiet Christmas for a change. I said I needed to recharge my batteries - I could practically see Arthur glow with pride because he got the reference when I read his reply today."

He took a parchment out of his pocket and handed it to Draco. "Arthur says they all understand. I feel a bit bad about lying to them, but I'm afraid it can't be helped. Ron sent me this drawing his daughter made for me, so I guess they really aren't too angry with me."

Draco eyed the parchment critically. Weasley's three year-old daughter had a very colourful drawing style, but the result looked a bit... disturbing to him.

"What's that figure in the centre? It looks like someone tied to a torture table! Did Granger pass on some kind of trauma to the poor child during her pregnancy?"

Harry burst into a fit of giggles. "It's a Christmas drawing, you git! That's baby Jesus in the manger!" He picked the parchment out of Draco's hand. "I think it's sweet. Ron informed me that she wants me to put it right next to my Christmas tree, and that's what I'll do."

"Your Christmas tree?" Draco did his best to sound haughty. "Last time I checked, this was still my flat."

Harry's face fell. "Do you mean you don't want me to stay over the holidays?"

He was so obviously hurt that Draco couldn't help wrapping his hand around Harry's neck. "Of course I want you to, idiot. I just didn't think you'd ever consider staying."

Harry, clearly relieved, grinned broadly. "It's going to be great. Just you and me - we could make love under the Christmas tree. You know, on a bearskin rug or something."

"With the Weaselspawn's baby Jesus watching? You're a filthy pervert." Although, Draco had to admit, the idea of Harry under the tree, clad in nothing but the soft glow of candlelight, had a lot of appeal. "Besides, I doubt I have a bearskin rug lying around in my flat."

"We could transfigure the doormat."

Now it was Draco's turn to burst out laughing. "I guess we could do that. Still...," he looked at Harry, his expression turning serious again, "I heard you talk to Granger on the phone last week, and you told her you'd be home for Christmas. Why did you suddenly change your mind?"

Harry blushed crimson. "Well, I - I actually didn't."

Draco frowned. "I'm not following you."

"I wanted to spend the holidays at home." Harry took a deep breath, clearly steeling himself for what he was going to say. "It's just that - I realized that I didn't have to go back to England to do so."

Sometimes, Draco reckoned as he reached out to pick a bit of tinsel out of Harry's hair, Christmas would sneak up on you when you were least expecting it.

FIN