Après Nöel

Après Nöel

by GreenUmbrella

Whip, whip, whip. Pause. Whip, whip, whip.

Draco Malfoy set down the Daily Prophet and looked over at his boyfriend in frustration. "Harry, damn it! Would you stop bloody pacing? I can't concentrate!"

Harry Potter paused and looked at the blond sitting on the couch. "If you were concentrating, you wouldn't notice me pacing."

"If you weren't pacing, your pants would cease whipping and I could concentrate!"

Harry sat down and put his face in his hands. Draco sighed and set down the paper. Not again. "What's the matter, Harry?"

"I don't know. It's just...I don't know."

Draco looked up to the ceiling for help. The last time Harry had gotten agitated like this, Draco had suggested he get a job, as Harry wasn't going to play with the Chudley Cannons until next season. Harry had pointed out that he didn't need to get a job since between their combined fortunes they were quite wealthy. Draco had retorted with, "Well, you need to do something because considering yourself a professional 'Boy-Who-Saved-The-World' is a bit outdated." This had not been greeted with enthusiasm and Draco had learned how to beg forgiveness because of it.

Draco knew what Harry's problem was: he was in withdrawal. He'd defeated Voldemort and put all the Death Eaters, including Lucius Malfoy, into Azkaban or their graves. Since his graduation last spring, he was no longer enrolled in Hogwarts and he didn't even have his aunt, uncle and cousin to complain about anymore, seeing as they refused to speak to each other now that he was of age. In Draco's opinion, everything was going too well in Harry's life, and he just wasn't used to being happy. He knew that part of Harry's problem was also that besides Draco, Hermione and Ron, he didn't see any of his old friends anymore. Life had gone on for everyone, as it usually did after graduation. Draco had given up on trying to be the one to fill that hole in Harry's life, because he just wasn't enough. He'd tried to leave Harry once so that Harry could see everything that he had. Unfortunately that had failed as well, as Harry had become a suicidal wreck. Hermione and Ron had had to drag Draco back and he hadn't contemplated leaving since. If he never saw that lost look in Harry's eyes again, it would be too soon. That was when he'd realized he filled a rather significant hole in Harry's life, just not every one. He wasn't sure what or whom it would take to fill it, but it couldn't be him.

So what could he do, now that Harry was upset? He could be sweet, but his stomach churned at the idea. He was a Malfoy. Albeit, he was a Malfoy who was in love with Harry Potter, which was certainly a different Malfoy than he'd ever imagined being, but still.... Sweet was not his forte. Motherly love was something a woman gave, not a man. However, looking over at Harry, who was currently running his fingers through his hair and staring wistfully at the Christmas tree, Draco resigned himself. He knew what he needed to do. He must be caring and ask what the matter was...in a semi-sweet sort of way.

What am I, a piece of chocolate? Draco thought to himself bitterly. Well, if you're gonna do it, might as well bloody play the part. He gathered himself off the couch and crawled over to where Harry was sitting. Harry looked at him, surprised.

"Draco, what in the bloody hell are you doing?"

Take his hand, a voice in the back of his head whispered. Draco took Harry's hand and Harry's eyes went even wider. Draco paused for effect, then asked caringly, "Harry, please tell me what's the matter."

A look of relief came over Harry's face and he burst into nervous laughter.

That's it. He's a nutter, Draco thought. He frowned up at the other boy. "What, pray tell, is so funny?"

"Nothing, I just thought...it looked like..." Harry bit his lip to stop his laughter.

"It looked like what?" Draco snapped, dropping Harry's hand.

"I thought you were going to propose or something."

Draco's mouth dropped. "Oh."

"You just...scared me for a minute." Draco fell silent.

Scared him? The idea of marriage scared Harry? Draco almost felt affronted, but then he realized that the idea scared him as well. He shook his head. Shelve it. This was not the time to deal with that subject.

"Anyway, so what's bothering you?"

"I don't need a job," Harry said quickly.

Draco sighed and set his head on Harry's knee, speaking with a half caring, half warning tone. "Harry..."

"Fine," Harry sighed. "It's Christmas Eve."

"Yes it is." Humour him.

"And we're sitting...well, we're here, you're reading the paper and I'm..."

"Pacing," Draco filled in.

"Right. Don't you think that's kind of odd?"

"Odd?" Draco looked up. "Define what normal would be here, please."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe going out to eat, or wrapping presents or seeing family or...I don't know."

Draco reached forward and stroked Harry's leg lightly. "Harry, give us a little time here! First of all, you could hardly define anything about us, either separate or together, as normal. Secondly, it's our first Christmas! Not only together, but out on our own. Life doesn't follow a set pattern...usually. We have to make our own traditions, our own Christmas Eve's and Christmases. And it isn't going to be perfect. We never had normal Christmases with our families and now..." Draco paused.

"We don't even have families," Harry supplied dully.

Draco sighed again. Trust himself to make Harry even more depressed, thinking about the loss of his parents and Sirius. Would that it were two days later, he thought to himself. Harry certainly wouldn't be depressed then.

"Never mind. I'll get over it." Harry started to stand up.

Draco reached up and caught his hand. "So let's go out."

Harry looked down at Draco with sad eyes. "You don't have to try and comfort me, Draco. That's not your job."

"No, it's not my job, but it may turn into a full time one, if you don't stop being such a git. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't care?" Draco shot back. He pulled himself up with Harry's hands, getting a small amount of pleasure at seeing Harry lurch, having to correct his balance. "What about Romatoni's?"

Harry's eyes lit up momentarily, and then blanked out again. "You hate that restaurant."

"So? It's a special occasion."

"It's Muggle."

"Are you really fighting me on this? Going once, going..."

"All right, all right." Harry gave him a small smile as they went to get their coats. "What's the catch?"

There's always got to be something for you, doesn't there? Draco wondered. Someday.... "You're paying."

"Deal."

*

Two hours later Harry had paid their tab and they exited the restaurant, walking back towards their flat. It was so cold that they had to cast warming spells on their clothes once they were out of sight from Muggles.

"Wasn't so bad, now was it?" Harry asked, his good mood thankfully restored.

"Yeah yeah, it wasn't bad," Draco grumbled. Truth to tell, he didn't mind the food, and every time they went, he liked it better. It would always remind him of a happy Harry, because for some reason, that Italian restaurant really pleased him. Personally, Draco would have liked the food much better if it were served by house elves instead of humans, but he supposed there were some traits he'd acquired from years of being a pureblood wizard that he would just never get over.

"We should go look at the big tree."

"What big tree?"

"You know, the big tree in the park up there."

"Oh. That big tree. Yes. Let's go see the tree." Draco willed himself to get into the spirit and not just play along for Harry's sake. Christmas was not an easy time for him. It brought back only a few good memories and lots of memories he'd rather banish from mind forever. It was funny, that someone like Draco, who'd always been one to look to the future, who saw the big picture and planned ahead, was so unable to look forward to certain aspects of the future with Harry. That he failed to comprehend that life with Harry, and Christmas with Harry, would be so much different and better than the life and any of the Christmases he'd ever known.

Draco felt Harry take his hand and he looked down at it in surprise. They had never been ones for public displays of affection but Draco found that he liked it. Besides, who in Muggle London was going to recognize them? And so what if they did? It wasn't as if their relationship hadn't been pasted across the front page of Witch Weekly for a few issues this last summer. Everyone that cared and probably a few who didn't, knew about the status of their relationship. Draco looked ahead and tuned into Harry's voice.

"I always liked Christmas at Hogwarts," Harry was saying. "They were always so much fun, even if I had to put up with getting presents from Hagrid that he actually considered edible."

Draco snorted. "Always thought it was odd that he liked to cook."

"He had a large apron," Harry mused.

Before Harry could lapse into grieving over the loss of Hagrid, Draco guided the conversation to a lighter topic. "What was your favorite Christmas gift?"

"The Firebolt," Harry said quickly.

Ah. Sirius. Try again. "I think we've established worst presents were from Hagrid?"

Harry laughed. "Yeah. But the old sock that Uncle Vernon gave me once comes in at a close second. Of course, at least I could do something with that. What about you?"

Draco thought a moment. "Best: lifetime subscription to Which Broomstick. Worst... let's see. Yeah, worst was a set of shampoo and conditioner that one of father's friends gave me. Nearly destroyed my hair, it did."

Draco could just tell that Harry was trying to keep a straight face. It had become a joke between them, to tease each other about their hair - excessively perfect and hopelessly messy, respectively.

"Right. So. That just about clears it up," Harry cracked. To this, Draco slapped his arm. Harry protested. "Hey! I'm not complaining about that lifetime subscription!"

"Of course not, money miser."

"I am not a money miser!" Harry objected.

"Besides, you bend the covers."

"I do not!"

"September! That issue is so ruined."

"That's because you stepped on it."

Draco glared at Harry. "I did not step on my own magazine."

Harry grinned. "Oh yes you did. Remember the time I brought home that, erm, massage oil?"

A wicked grin spread over Draco's face. "Yeah?"

"And I put some on?"

"Yeah?"

"And you slipped and we fell into bed?"

Lost in memories, Draco thought he wouldn't need that self-warming for much longer. "Yeah?"

"That was the magazine."

Draco blinked and snapped back to reality with a sharp intake of breath. "Huh? What was the magazine?"

"That was what you slipped on. September issue."

"What? Yeah right."

"I'm serious!"

"Like you had the presence of mind to notice what I'd stepped on!"

Harry grinned and let go of Draco's hand, rubbing his nose inconspicuously. "Well, of course I noticed it. The next morning. You'd done worse damage to it than I had when I sat on it."

"What? You sat on it! I knew it!" Draco roared and Harry ran off laughing.

*

It was nearly eleven at night when they returned to their flat, winded and tired. Harry closed the door behind them and grinned lazily. "Thanks, Draco."

"You're welcome." Those emerald eyes will be the death of me, Draco thought, as he felt himself being pulled toward them like two magnets being drawn inexorably towards one another.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Harry said, jarring Draco's attention from his target.

"What?"

"How about we light the fire, get some wine and wait for Santa to arrive?"

"Santa?" Draco asked dubiously.

Harry just smiled. "I bought that '95 label you like."

"White Zinfandel?"

Harry nodded. "I could go get some glasses while you light the fire."

"Then what?"

"Then," Harry touched Draco's arms lightly. "We can get warm by the fire."

"Warm?"

"Warm." Harry looked into Draco's eyes, emerald green turning darker with desire.

He hated it when Harry looked at him like that. Someday Harry was going to ask him to walk off a cliff while giving him that look and Draco wasn't even going to hesitate about doing it.

"I'll light the fire." Draco assented. Harry walked towards the kitchen. "And don't forget the ice!" Draco called to his retreating form.

Harry looked over his shoulder with an evil grin on his face and Draco hurried to light the fire.

*

A bottle of wine, melted cubes and the rest of their energy spent, they lay in front of the fire, looking at the tree.

"You don't really believe in Santa Claus, do you?" Draco asked.

"You mean do I believe in the big guy with the beard and hat?"

"Yeah."

Harry shrugged. "Never seen him. Find it hard to believe that he could visit all those houses in one night. But then, we're wizards. Maybe he uses magic."

"A spell to slow down time?" Draco suggested, jokingly.

"Yeah. And the side effects are long hair..."

"Long gray hair." Draco shuddered.

"Obesity."

"Total obsession for cookies."

"And milk," Harry added.

"Stilted vocabulary. I mean, really, who says 'Ho, ho ho?'"

"And he's forced to live in the North Pole year round just to regain his strength."

"Due to the duress of being under the spell," Draco hypothesized.

"Right."

"And he's just so happy. Maybe that's why I never believed in him. Nobody's that cheerful?"

Harry turned around a bit so he could look at Draco's face, smiling ruefully. "We're a pair of cynics, aren't we?"

"You're surprised?" Draco raised his eyebrow.

"No. But we shouldn't be."

"Shouldn't be what? Surprised?"

"No. We shouldn't be cynics. We have a lot to be happy about."

"Yes we do, Potter." Draco wrapped his arm more tightly around the other boy, wondering how he managed to fall in love with such an optimist.

"Potter," Harry murmured in admonishment. "Harry," he corrected sleepily.

"Harry," Draco repeated. Within minutes, they were asleep.

*

Quite a few hours later, Draco woke up. Wine always had a tendency to act as a sleeping aid for Draco. He untangled himself from Harry, stretched, and slowly made his way to the bathroom. He showered, dried and styled his hair, as per normal morning ablutions, then opened the bathroom door to the sound of Muggle Christmas music and the smell of coffee. Harry was awake. He wandered towards the kitchen and watched as Harry poured a cup of coffee.

"Want a biscuit?" Harry asked, without turning around.

"No thanks." Draco wasn't surprised that his presence had been noticed. Somehow Harry always knew when he was around. What was it about him that made Harry so attuned to him?

"Your shampoo." Harry turned around and handed Draco his coffee.

Draco peered into the cup. "Uh, isn't this coffee?"

"No, your shampoo. That's how I always know you're here."

"Mind reader, are we?"

"No, I just sensed the questioning look on your face."

"Ah."

Harry changed the subject. "Santa came."

"Did he now?" Draco sipped at the coffee. It was black, just the way he liked it.

"Uh huh." Harry took Draco's hand and led him into the other room. The presents under the tree had exploded from the night before and Draco nearly dropped his coffee. He had charmed some of Harry's gifts with a delayed spell so they would appear after midnight, but that didn't explain all the other gifts. He looked around to Harry. "You added them while I was in the shower."

"Did not." Harry disagreed. "If you paid attention to the small details, you would have seen them before you walked in the bathroom."

"Did an owl drop them off?"

"Right, because they're likely to fly down the chimney when there's a fire going and they've discovered all the windows were closed."

Draco blinked. "Well, are they all from you?"

"Nope. Look here," Harry reached under the tree and pulled one out, handing it to Draco. "It says 'To: Draco, From: Santa.'"

Draco snorted. "Nice elaborate scheme, Harry, but Santa would not be visiting me."

"Wouldn't he?" Harry looked at him, cocking his head. "He wouldn't send presents to someone who helped save the world? He must have high standards, that one."

"Well, let's just see what 'Santa' got me, then," Draco said, giving up for the time being. He ripped open the paper, earning a moan from Harry, "So much effort to put on, so little effort to take off..."

Draco gasped, "Harry!"

"What?" Harry peered forward and Draco held the box in front of his face. "What's that? A Lite Brite?"

"I...I saw it once in the window of a Muggle store when I was younger. Father wouldn't buy it for me because it was, you know, Muggle. But how did you know..."

"How would I know?" Harry asked, taking the box from him and looking it over. "We'll have to play with this later. Dudley had one once, but I never got to play with it."

Draco looked at Harry in surprise. How had he known? There was no such thing as Santa Claus, but if ever there were something to make him wonder, this was it. He knew he'd never told Harry that story. Some weaknesses were better left as secrets, not to mention that he liked complaining about all things Muggle as much as possible. He would never get over the enjoyment of annoying Harry with his anti-Muggle comments.

"Well, let's see what else is under there," Draco said, now quite curious at this point. He plucked a present out that had Harry's name on it and they chortled at it once it was opened. Hermione, had, as usual, given him a 'useful' gift - in other words, a book: Beauxbatons: A History.

"Wonder what she got you?" Harry mused as he flipped through the pages.

"Let's see." Draco rifled around under the tree and found it. "Here it is."

"Hang on. Put that down!" Harry commanded as he set down his book and plucked the gift from Draco's hand.

"What?" Draco looked at him, surprised.

"You can't hand yourself your own present." Harry admonished. "Sit."

"I'm not a dog, you know."

"Yeah yeah. Please." Harry prompted.

Draco snorted as he sat. "'Please,' the word that works all the time, even as an addendum."

"Shut up." Harry handed him his gift.

Draco opened it. "I should have known."

Harry peered at it. "A book?"

Draco held it up. "Durmstrang: A History."

They cracked up. "Nobody can ever say that 'Mione doesn't have a sense of humour."

"Humour. Is that what they call it?"

"Yeah. Yours is a bit shorter than mine. I think she likes me more." Harry held up his book, which was easily 3 times as thick as Draco's.

"No, it's because they probably couldn't find a whole lot on it. Listen to what it says on the first page, 'Durmstrang, shrouded in secrets, location unknown....' Who writes this stuff?" Draco wondered aloud.

Harry opened the book. "The Publishers at Modern History Press."

"Hmmm." For a few minutes, they sat there, reading the books, when they looked up at the same time. "I can't believe Granger got us books." Draco griped.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Not everything is about books."

"They're quite dull, really."

"History books always are."

They nodded, and went back to reading.

*

"The rolls are burning!" Draco screamed to Harry as he watched the smoke billow from the oven.

"Oh!" Harry lifted the mixer from the mashed potatoes before turning it off - spraying them both with potatoes - and opened the oven, aiming his wand. "Pluvius!"

It was like as if ceiling had opened up and started pouring rain. Draco lost grip of the turkey he'd been transferring from the pan to the platter and he heard it fall to the floor with a sickening thud.

Harry yelped, "Finite Incantatem," and there was silence.

Draco turned to look at him, moving his soaking wet hair from his eyes. "Fluvius, Harry! Fluvius!" He shook his head and aimed his own wand, dousing the rolls that had, ironically, not been affected by the downpour, as they'd been protected by the oven. "'Let's make dinner the Muggle way,' he says. 'Let's not use magic,' he says. Well, no bloody wonder you didn't want to use magic!" Draco gestured to his feet, which was now up to his ankles in water. "I wouldn't be surprised if the turkey floated by right about now!" Draco grabbed the dishtowel to wipe his face, only to discover that it was soaking wet as well. He tossed it back on the counter and glared at Harry.

Which turned out to be a bad idea. Draco felt angry enough to spit and Harry was shaking with held-in laughter. This was not fair. "What's so funny, I ask you?"

"You!" Harry gave up and doubled over with laughter.

Just count to 10, Draco thought, annoyed. "Me?"

"This is great!" Harry laughed. "This is so fun!"

Draco felt like his eyes were going to bug straight out of his head. Sod the 'making sure Harry had fun' plan. "FUN?!"

"Lighten up!!" Harry sloshed over to him and held his shoulders. "Look around you! This is really funny!"

Draco looked. "Well, the cranberries look ok. But they're supposed to look juicy."

"Draco..." Harry shook his head, still smiling. "We can fix it."

"Oh no, I can fix it. You can set the table." Draco waved his wand and banished the ruined rolls.

"You don't trust me?" Harry feigned a hurt voice.

"After what you just pulled? Need I say more?"

"All right, all right, I'll set the table." Harry sloshed away.

"Don't kick the turkey!" Draco yelped as he banished the water.

Twenty minutes and a new batch of rolls later, they were sitting peacefully at their table, munching away.

"You know, Draco? This is the best Christmas I've ever had. Even if it's just the two of us."

Draco squinted at Harry over the glass of wine. "Yeah, I'm better than nothing, I know."

Harry threw a piece of roll at him.

"Hey! Not the roll!" Draco picked up the piece and popped it in his mouth. "If you're gonna throw rolls, throw the burnt ones."

"But Drakey, you banished them!" Harry whined.

"And do not call me Drakey." Draco glared. "Don't you dare look so appeased! You take altogether too much pleasure in harassing me."

"No more than you like to do to me," Harry replied innocently, as he dunked his olive in his mashed potatoes.

Draco winced. "That's really disgusting, you know that?"

"What?" Harry popped the olive in his mouth.

"That! Ew!" Draco averted his eyes and took a bite of the scourgified turkey.

"The olive? It's good, try it!"

"No, no. They are separate for a reason, Potter."

"You put gravy on your mashed potatoes. They were originally separate." Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, but gravy is made to go on mashed potatoes. Olives are not meant to be dunked in them. Frankly, olives should not be at all."

"Food snob."

"Oh, that was below the belt," Draco said sarcastically. He took a drink of his wine and heard Harry getting up from his seat. "Forget something?"

"No." Harry came up behind him and Draco turned to look at him.

"What?" He started to ask when he felt something being forced in his mouth. "Mmph..."

"Eat it." Harry withdrew his fingers and Draco chewed, wincing.

"What was that?" Draco mumbled.

"Olive. Dunked in mashed potatoes and gravy. Wasn't bad, was it?" Harry asked happily, as he returned to his seat.

"That was cruel, Potter." Draco took a large drink of wine, ignoring the burn as he swallowed.

"No more cruel than you insinuating that I can't clean up a mess in the kitchen."

"Oh no. You asked for that. You proved that."

"I saw your eyes begging to try a bite of the olive. You can't pull one over on me." Harry crunched a celery stick.

"Right. Because my eyes are a separate entity from me." Draco rolled his eyes.

"I believe they are. They just rolled at me."

"Oh, I assure you, that was intentional." Harry sniggered. Draco looked over at the stereo that was playing Christmas music. "Now, watch how to properly cast spells," Draco instructed. He aimed his wand at the stereo, used an opening charm, summoned the CD out and made it lower next to the stereo. Then he used the opening charm to open a different CD case, wafted the CD to the player, set it in there, and then closed it. He looked at Harry smugly as he picked up the remote to the player and hit the play button. Calmly, he took a bite of mashed potatoes. He knew Harry was grinning before he looked up.

"You planned that, didn't you?"

"Why of course."

"Couldn't quite figure out a spell to make the CD play, though, could you?"

Draco shrugged. "Everything has its loopholes. Since you insist on surrounding us with so many Muggle items..."

"Gripe, gripe."

"...I must do something to entertain myself."

"Using them is just a perk, then I suppose."

"Exactly."

Harry shook his head, and then attended to his food.

When they had finished eating, Draco summoned a gift from the bedroom and handed it to Harry. "By the way, this is your real Christmas present."

Harry looked at him, surprised. "You mean all the other ones were fake?"

"Yeah, they're going to disappear like Leprechaun gold. No, but this is your big present."

"Big?" Harry held up the feather light package and looked at him dubiously.

"Just open it."

"Is it a portkey?"

"No! Open it."

Harry shook it. "I don't hear anything. Is it charmed to get bigger when it's opened?"

"It's not even magical! Open it!"

Harry, as usual, took his time to open the package. Of course, the package really wasn't that big, so his stalling didn't delay him very long. He pulled out a piece of parchment and read it out loud, his voice starting out excited and ending puzzled. "'You will get your real Christmas present tomorrow.'" Harry looked at Draco. "Is this some sadistic joke or something?"

"No! I can't believe you think me capable of such a thing!" Draco pretended to look affronted.

Harry turned the parchment over and looked back up. "So I'll find out what my 'real' present is tomorrow?"

"Yep." Draco looked proud.

"Is it a big screen TV?"

"Nope."

"Well, there are no Quidditch games tomorrow. Hmmm. Well, are you gonna give me a hint?"

"You'll get it tomorrow," Draco said confidently.

Harry chucked another piece of roll at him.

"Hey! What did I tell you about the rolls?"

*

Draco cast a warming spell on the sheets before settling in. The nights got exceedingly cold in their flat at night and Harry never wanted to cast any warming spells on the air as he said it made it hard to breathe. "That's what you get for spending 7 years in a drafty tower," Draco always told him. Of course, dank, bone-chilling dungeon jokes always ensued, so they'd compromised at warming the sheets, not the air. Draco always tried his best not to have to visit the bathroom in the middle of the night, but on the occasional time he did, he took much pleasure in crawling next to Harry and making him yelp with the sudden onslaught of cold feet.

Harry emerged from the bathroom with his still damp hair sticking straight up. Draco shook his head. "Why do you insist on showering at night?"

"What's it to you?" Harry climbed in bed.

"You make the pillows wet," Draco complained.

"Ah, you just don't like the missed opportunity of showering with me."

Draco grunted and turned off his lamp.

"Besides, I know you like to ruffle my damp hair."

"I do not like to ruffle your damp hair! Besides, it doesn't need my ruffling it to get it messy."

"Yours does, though." Draco jumped at the sudden contact of Harry's hand in his hair, ruffling it.

"HEY! OUT OF THE HAIR!"

"Make me." Harry taunted seductively.

*

"Draco?" Harry asked, some time later.

"Mmm?" Draco mumbled, sleepily.

"I meant what I said earlier. This was the best Christmas I've ever had. And I didn't mean for it to sound like you're better than nothing."

"I know," Draco murmured.

"You know, it was just hard for me to get used to not being around a bunch of people around Christmas time, like at Hogwarts. And I always had this picture perfect Christmas in mind for when I was older. Like a big family and lots of laughter. You know? But you showed me that I only need one person to be happy. I just wanted to you to know. Sometimes I think you don't think highly enough of yourself." Harry kissed Draco's shoulder blade and Draco was glad he was facing away from Harry, so that he couldn't see the tear that had welled up in his eye. He waited awhile before he thought he could reply with a steady voice.

"Thanks, Harry."

"Mm hmmm." Harry murmured, nearly asleep.

Draco smiled to himself. He'd given Harry a happy Christmas, which he'd desperately needed after last night's exhibition. And this wasn't even counting tomorrow. He rolled over so he was facing Harry. He gave him a quick kiss on the nose. "You're not so bad either, Potter."

*

..."Bail! The ship's gonna capsize!" Someone yelled.

Draco felt himself pitching back and forth, reaching for something to grab onto. If the ship was going to go down, he needed to hold on. Wait. No. He should let go and try to swim.

"Draco! Draco! Come on!"

"Harry?!" Draco yelped, looking around, horrified. He hadn't even known Harry was on the ship. "Harry where are you?"

"Wake up!"...

Draco sat up straight and opened his eyes to a sight that made his jaw drop. Harry was jumping up and down on the bed. "What the..."

"What's my present, what's my present?" Harry asked, excitedly.

"Uh..." Draco fell back onto the bed. "What are you like, seven or something? What time is it?"

"Quarter to eight. Come on! Please!" Harry wheedled.

"Quarter to eight?!" Draco sat straight up again and ran his hand through his hair.

"It's sticking straight up again," Harry said smugly.

"Shut up!" Draco leapt out of bed and ran into the bathroom.

"Come back here! Aren't you going to tell me?!" Draco was in the shower before Harry arrived in the bathroom.

"Quarter to eight! Harry, did you make any coffee?"

"Not yet."

Draco hurriedly lathered his hair with one hand as he adjusted the temperature with the other. "Would you please? And some water for tea."

Draco heard the door slide open behind him and he could tell Harry was feeling playful. "Need some help in here?"

"HARRY! The coffee!" Draco yelped. Harry was acting like a little child. If he joined him in the shower, they'd never be ready in time. "Please? Some coffee and tea?" Draco opened one eye to look at Harry, who was now pouting.

"You can't make up your mind on what you want to drink and you expect me to make you both but you won't let me in here with you and I still don't have my present? Life sucks, you know that?"

"I love you."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry grunted, not entirely serious. The door slid shut just as some of the shampoo dripped into Draco's eye. Draco yelped.

"That's what you get!" Harry said as he exited the bathroom.

"Don't forget the tea!" Draco called after him.

Ten minutes later, Draco emerged from their bedroom, clean, shaved, combed, cologned and dressed in his most attractive clothing, if he did say so himself. He walked into the kitchen where Harry was pulling out two cups and stopped dead in his tracks. "HARRY! GET DRESSED!"

Harry looked back, quizzically. "Why? Oh." His eyes looked Draco over approvingly. "You look nice." The cups quite forgotten, he walked up to Draco and sniffed the air. "I swear, when you were younger, you must have done studies to figure out just which combination of shampoo, soap and cologne would make you smell the sexiest."

Harry's breath on Draco's neck nearly gave him pause, but he snapped out of it. "Harry. You must. Get. Dressed." A small kiss to accompany the breath. Draco moaned and moved to turn his head. "Harry?"

"What?"

"Now."

"What do you want?" Harry whispered seductively.

"For you to...ah...get dressed. Please." Draco pulled away and guided Harry into the bedroom.

"You are no fun, Malfoy!" Harry whined.

"I know. This surprises you why? Now be a good little boy and get dressed. And run a comb through your hair." Draco pushed Harry inside the bedroom and closed the door on Harry's rueful face. Draco pulled out his wand and charmed the door with a silencing charm just in time.

Whoosh! Draco turned around. "Morning, Weasley."

"Morning, Malfoy." Ron stood up and stepped out of the fireplace. He sniffed the air. "Do I smell coffee?"

"In the kitchen."

"Thanks. I'll just go put this in the kitchen." Ron held up the pie he'd brought.

Whoosh! "Hi Draco! Where's he off to?" Hermione Granger asked, gesturing to the retreating back of her boyfriend.

"Coffee. Required drink for the non-morning person."

"Did you like the book I gave you?" She asked, giving him a quick hug.

"It was touché." Draco was unused to these shows of affection Hermione always gave him since he and Harry had started dating. Well, since she'd approved, really....

Whoosh! "Yeah, yeah, but I bet you two sat there reading them right after you opened them, didn't you?"

Damn that girl. "Well, you know Harry. He's so new to many things in the wizarding world..."

"And you are totally fascinated with that school. I know, I know." Hermione smirked knowingly. Whoosh!

"All right, all right! So we might have read them a little."

"Well, that's what they're for." She winked at him, then followed Ron into the kitchen.

"Nice tree you got there."

Draco turned around. "Thanks Finnigan. Isn't Dean coming?"

"He was right behind me." They looked at the fireplace, which expelled Charlie Weasley and Dean Thomas in quick succession.

Draco sighed. The Weasley clan. He should have had the forethought to have them come earlier than everyone else, as there were so many of them. He shrugged and waved to the newcomers. "Help yourself to coffee, tea, or there's eggnog in the fridge."

"Thanks." Charlie made for the kitchen just as George arrived.

Draco heard the door to the bedroom open as Harry's whine came through, "Draco...." Harry stopped dead in his tracks and Draco was relieved to see that he was properly attired. His mouth opened into a big O and Seamus cracked up.

"Better close that mate, or a bludger might fly in it."

"Harry?!" Hermione squealed and came running out of the kitchen. "Happy Christmas!" She wrapped her arms around him and this seemed to jar him out of his shock. Now he was grinning like a lunatic.

"Happy Christmas!"

"Those rolls are so good," Fred mumbled with his mouthful, as he re-entered the living room. "How'd you make 'em?"

"They're the 'second try' kind," Draco answered, making his way to the kitchen to do damage control. If they'd found the rolls, who knew what else was being pawed through. He opened the fridge and started pulling out some food.

"Sounds like home in here." Charlie commented from across the room as he poured some cream in his coffee.

Great, Draco thought. My flat sounds like the Weasley abode. And Charlie was right: a second later Mrs. Weasley's shrill voice sounded through and greeted Harry. Draco looked over at Charlie, who he'd gotten to know during Charlie's year as the Care of Magical Creatures teacher after Hagrid's death. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?"

Charlie didn't comment, but he slapped a hand on Draco's shoulder and said something that made him bristle. "I'm proud of you, kid. You make him happy." Then he left just as some other people started to stream into the kitchen. Draco spent a large part of the next half hour playing host and keeping the coffee brewing. He was grateful yet somewhat irritated, when Hermione had intervened and taught him a spell to keep the coffee pot bottomless. When he finally made his way back into the living room, he paused and watched the scene before him, a pleased smile coming over his face. Harry looked ecstatic. Draco didn't know how many more years of these get-togethers they could have before people started having families and other engagements, but as long as it made Harry look like that, Draco was sure going to try. He was currently in deep conversation with Seamus as they looked over a Quidditch magazine, which was saying something in his opinion. He wouldn't have believed that Seamus was capable of engaging in a deep conversation. He squinted. Wait a minute. That's my Quidditch magazine.

"'Scuse me." Alicia Spinnet appeared next to his shoulder and tapped it.

"Oh. Sorry." Draco moved closer to the tree to get out of the way. This movement caught Harry's eye, and he broke away from Seamus, who immediately started discussing the magazine with Ron. He waded his way towards Draco - for wading was the only what to describe what one had to do as their rather small flat was crammed with too many people. They were starting to pour into the hallway that led to the den and spare bedrooms, Draco noticed. A few minutes and minor conversations later, Harry finally arrived to Draco.

"Hi Draco."

"Hi Harry."

Harry looked down at his hands. "Ron say's there's an opening at 'Quidditch Illustrated' for a reviewer. I thought I might try for it. You know, until the next season starts."

"That would be nice," Draco said, encouragingly.

"Get me out of the house."

"Yeah, I get sick of you." They exchanged smiles.

"Sorry I acted like a git this morning."

"Your only path to redemption is to continue what you were doing before I pushed you in the bedroom." Draco said flatly, knowing full well that his beaming face undermined the flatness.

"I think I can handle that." Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's waist and pulled him into a kiss. The room either got very quiet, or Draco tuned them out. He wasn't exactly sure which, but he was too preoccupied to figure it out. When they broke apart, Draco pulled Harry into a tight hug and whispered, "Happy Christmas, Harry."

"Happy Christmas, Draco."

Finis