No Words

"I hate Christmas shopping," Ron Weasley growled as he shoved his way through the throng of people milling around Diagon Alley to reach Harry Potter. "I mean, honestly."

"Ron," Harry laughed, clapping Ron on the shoulder, "I think you've been with Hermione way too long!"

"What does that mean?" Ron looked confused.

"'I mean honestly.'" Harry mocked his best friend in a falsetto voice.

Ron blushed and conceded the point and then countered with: "The same could be said about you and yours."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Harry sniffed haughtily.

"Then I guess you're going to tell me," Ron grimaced as he plucked at Harry's cloak, "that you picked out this get up you're wearing?"

"Why? What's wrong with it?" Harry asked, looking down at his outfit. Elegant black trousers were encasing his legs like a glove. His pullover was a brilliant green that made his eyes stand out more than usual. An emerald and silver dragon brooch held his heavy black cloak closed at his neck. His boots were made of the very best dragon hide and-- Harry began to see Ron's point. "Oh."

"Tell me, Harry," Ron joshed, "does Malfoy set out your clothes every morning?"

"Er--" Harry shuffled his feet in embarrassment. Actually, Draco did pick out his clothes most mornings.

Ron doubled over laughing hysterically, his brilliant read hair falling in his face, "Wait until I tell Hermione!"

"You wouldn't!" Harry exclaimed even as Ron nodded emphatically that he would. "If you tell her that, then... I'll tell her what you've gotten her for Christmas!"

"No!" Ron yelped, panic replacing the laughter in his brown eyes. "This is the first year she hasn't guessed! Fine! Fine, you're sick little secret is safe with me. Until after Christmas, that is!"

"I'm sure that I'll find something else to hold over you by then," Harry grinned.

"Without a doubt, Harry," Ron draped his arm around Harry's shoulder and led him off down the street. "Without a doubt."

***********

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Weasley were taking tea in the drawing room of the modest home she shared with Ron.

"So," Draco asked with a glint in his eyes, "Any ideas what Ron is getting you this Christmas?"

"No," Hermione sighed in frustration. She eyed Draco suspiciously. "But you know, don't you?"

"Of course I know," Draco told her as he added milk to his Earl Grey, "And no, I am not going to tell you."

"This is the first time in seven years that I have not been able to figure it out," Hermione admitted. "I have been all over this house as well as The Burrow. I just can't find it!"

"And it's just killing you, isn't it?" Draco quirked a perfectly shaped eyebrow at her.

"Yes!" Hermione clinked down her cup and jumped out of her chair, giving up any pretense of being relaxed. "How am I supposed to know what to get him if I don't know what he's gotten me?"

"So that's the secret to your exquisite gift giving abilities?" Draco laughed. "Tell me, do you know what Harry and I are giving you two this year?"

"Yes, of course!" Hermione replied before she could stop herself. "Oh, dear! I mean--"

"It's okay, Weasley," Draco soothed, calling her by his pet name for her, making her titter. "We knew that."

"So," Hermione neatly shifting the focus from herself. "What are you giving Harry this year?"

Draco's pale face lit up at the mention of his lover. "I have been working on it since last Christmas."

"Wow. What is it?"

"Harry's family tree!" Draco announced. "Both sides: Wizards and Muggles!"

"Oh Draco," Hermione gasped, tears springing to her eyes. "That's lovely! Harry will love it!"

"I know." Draco looked smug.

The front door slammed shut. "We're back!"

Moments later, Ron and Harry entered the living room. Seeing the tears glistening in Hermione's eyes, Ron quickly rushed to his wife's side.

"What's wrong, Hermione?"

Harry saw the smug look on Draco's face and the intense look in his eyes. What had happened?

"It's just," Hermione sobbed once, her hand fluttering over her chest. "So romantic!"

Ron rolled his eyes and snorted, realizing that his wife was just having a fit of romantic vapors.

"God, you two are so dramatic," Harry heaved a sigh of relief and went to Draco. "What is 'so romantic'? Watching Muggle soap operas again?"

"No darling," Draco looked up at Harry with adoring eyes. "I was just telling Weasley here about the time I stayed up all night, watching you sleep. The way the moonlight came in through the window, making your hair shine like the most extravagant onyx stone in existence."

Hermione sobbed again and launched herself into Ron's arms, crying. "So romantic!"

"That's it," Ron grumbled to the crowd. "No more tea with Malfoy, the insufferable poet."

***********

Christmas morning found the village where Harry and Draco lived covered in a blanket of fresh snow. Draco was already awake, propped on his elbows, watching Harry sleep.

Harry was, Draco decided with a sigh, the most handsome man on earth. He heard bells when he looked upon Harry's face and angels sang whenever he peered into Harry's green eyes.

God, Draco chuckled to himself. Ron's right. I am a raving poet!

"Wake up, Harry," Draco dropped light kisses over Harry's beloved face. "Its Christmas morning and I want to open presents!"

"Mmm..." Harry groaned, stretching into Draco's warm body, "But you feel so good. Can't we skip it?"

"No," Draco said firmly, kissing his way down Harry's face to his bare shoulder. "We have to be at the Weasley compound for brunch, so get up. I want to exchange our gifts before we go."

Reluctantly, Harry pulled himself into a sitting position. Draco handed him his glasses and stood up.

"You can stay in bed," Draco told him as he pattered in his bare feet to the small decorated tree standing near the fireplace. "I'll bring your present to you."

"Grab yours, too?"

"Anything for you, pet," Draco quipped, scooping both boxes into his arms and returning to the bed. "Open mine first."

Harry smiled and pulled the paper off the simple, yet elegantly wrapped box Draco had handed him. His eyes danced over the parchment until he saw the title written in gorgeous green script: The Potter Family Tree.

"Oh, Dray," Harry breathed, reverently lifting the parchment from the box. "It's my family tree! My complete family tree!"

"Do you like it?" Draco moved closer to peer over Harry's shoulder at his painstakingly detailed work. Each name had been written in Draco's own perfect script. "There's more in the box."

"More?" Harry tore his eyes from the last entry on the page, which linked Harry and Draco's name together. "How could there be more?"

"Here," Draco flushed under the praise and reached into the box in Harry's lap, drawing out a small book. "It is a collection of pictures...and some drawings of your family. There is one for every person on the tree."

"Oh, my God," Harry was baffled as he flipped through the book, which contained both Wizard and Muggle photographs and a few old pencil drawings. "I don't even know most of these people! No one ever told me--"

"I know," Draco said quietly, reaching into the box once more. "That's why this is here."

It was a Muggle-style scrapbook. Harry opened it and saw that each page was filled with newspaper clippings. There were birth and wedding announcements, cut outs from the sports sections, science fair write-ups, obituaries... all with the name Potter or Evans highlighted.

"My family's story," Harry breathed, touching the pages with shaking fingers. Suddenly, he jerked his head around to look at Draco. "There are no words."

Draco kissed Harry softly. "Now, shall I open mine?"

The raven haired man shook himself from his reverie and watched as Draco unceremoniously tore the wrapping paper from the small box in his hands.

Draco lifted the box top and stopped. It was a--"What is it, Harry?"

"It's a Muggle tool," Harry explained. "It is called a compass."

"A 'compass'?" Draco tried out the word as he picked up the round tool and turned it around in his hand. The needle under the glass swiveled on its post to stay pointed at Harry.

"A compass shows Muggles which way to go when they are lost. It always points to true North."

Draco stroked the fine silver workmanship as he listened to Harry.

"Draco," Harry continued in a low voice. "Before you, I was lost. You saved me. You are my true North."

"Harry," Draco's eyes shone with unshed tears of happiness. "There are no words."

***********

Harry and Draco arrived at the Burrow just as the Weasley family was opening gifts.

"Happy Christmas!" Mrs. Weasley chirped as she opened the door. "You both have a gift under the tree!"

"I can't imagine what it is," Draco joked as he kissed Mrs. Weasley's aging cheek. "I do hope it is a jumper."

"Oh you," Mrs. Weasley swatted him with her dish towel as the rest of the Weasleys laughed. Everyone in the room was wearing new Mrs. Weasley knit creations. It was a family tradition that they all cherished.

A squeal from Hermione brought all other noise to a grinding halt. She was staring down at her lap, her mouth still forming a perfect O. Ron was next to her, beaming proudly. He glanced up at Harry and Draco and winked. They grinned back at him.

"Ron," Hermione's voice trembled. "You've--you've bought me a store?"

"A bookstore, Hermione," Ron told her with no small amount of pleasure. "You are now the sole owner of Flourish and Botts! Although, I expect you'll want to change that name in short order."

"But, Ron!" Hermione cried. "However did you...? The money--?"

"Oh, that," Ron shrugged casually. "I got a new job."

"A new job?"

"Nothing much, really, just as head coach for the Chudley Canons!" Ron said offhandedly. "Actually pays quite well."

A huge cheer went up as Hermione lunged at Ron, crying with pleasure.

"I'm afraid that I only have one present for you," Hermione whispered into her husband's ear. "And it is not wrapped."

"That's okay," Ron said, thinking that nothing could possibly make this moment any better. "What is it?"

"You are going to be a father."

"What?" Ron jumped to his feet, bringing Hermione with him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she nodded with a grin. "Quite."

"Everyone!" Ron bellowed, his ears turning crimson in his happiness. "We are having a baby!"

More cheers came on the wings of that news.

Draco leaned his back into Harry's chest and Harry's arms encircled his lover's waist. Happiness enveloped them both as they watched the tableau before them.

"Harry, Draco!" Ron bounded across the room to the pair, dragging Hermione with him. "We want you to be our child's godparents. Say you will!"

"Absolutely," Draco answered immediately, knowing he spoke for Harry as well. "So long as you will do the same for us."

"What?" Hermione gasped. "You're adopting a baby? When?"

Harry tightened his grip on Draco. "I've asked for another limb on our family tree for next Christmas."

~End