Fic: All You Need is a Christmas Bow
Title: All You Need is a Christmas Bow
Author: ???
Rating: NC-17…only a little =)
Characters: Harry/Draco
Prompt(s): #15. “Ron gets Draco in the Ministry Secret Santa and is stumped. At least he is, till he realises all he'd need to do is stick a bow on his best mate” -I deviated a bit…in a good way I hope. ; )
Summary: Ron shows just how great a friend he is.
Word Count: ~8.2K
Ron stared at the red and green holiday card on his desk in horror. Draco Malfoy? Bloody hell. Of all the people in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement he had to get Draco Malfoy for the stupid Secret Santa pool. He had completely forgotten about the ridiculous ordeal until about five minutes ago when the happy Christmas-colored envelope soared into his office and landed cheerfully on his desk.
“Good Tidings, Auror Ron Weasley! Your Secret Santa Gift Recipient shall be Auror Draco Malfoy!” These curly, gold inked letters looked up at Ron with what he thought was a smug expression. If he got something small or silly for the git, he’d never hear the end of it and be at the receiving end of Malfoy’s mockery for who knows how long. They got along decently now, meaning they didn’t attack or maim each other, but they weren’t friends--name calling and childish teasing happened occasionally, though it never escalated like it had while they were at school. This was mostly due to Harry.
Everyone assumed Ron and his best mate would be partners, but they both agreed it might be best to branch off and somehow the universe decided that Harry and Malfoy would end up as auror partners. Well, the universe and the entire Ministry of Magic, which approved greatly of those on both sides of the war to “kiss and make up,” as it were, and so Ron put up with the Slytherin auror on occasion.
It was half an hour before he shoved the Secret Santa notice inside his desk and made for Hermione’s office on the fifth floor--the International Magical Office of Law. He nodded and smiled to many of the other wizards and witches on his way, they were all fairly used to seeing Ron intruding to visit his wife daily. He got to her office, grinning as he usually did at the name plate on the door: “Hermione Weasley.” Looks good.
“‘Mione, do you have a minute?” The door was ajar, so Ron strolled in expecting to see Hermione’s desk piled high with files and his wife reading over her latest messages from the department head--the man did like to have Hermione’s opinion on almost everything.
“Weasley, I’m afraid Granger is busy at the moment,” Malfoy said with that annoying smirk on his face. Ron halted a few steps through the doorway and frowned. Malfoy was sitting on the edge of Hermione’s desk spinning his wand in his left hand and staring at a leaf of paper held in his right. Hermione gave an exasperated sigh.
“It’s Weasley,” she said for the millionth time before sharing a smile with Ron--causing him to smile back immediately. She had a way of taking away his annoyance with the blond auror. Malfoy slid to the floor and dropped the piece of parchment back on Hermione’s desk.
“Well, Granger, I’m off,” Draco winked at her and grinned evilly at Ron before sauntering out of her office and spelling the door shut behind him. Hermione chuckled and tilted her head expectantly in Ron’s direction. He gave her a kiss and ranted to her about the Christmas present and Secret Santa nonsense. Her expression was amused the entire time he was speaking till finally he asked.
“What’s so funny?” She met his eyes and coughed, as if to curtail laughter.
“Oh nothing, nothing. Do you have any ideas for a good present?” He let his head fall back on the chair he had plopped down on during his complaining.
“No, of course not. I’m pants at gift giving--you should know that of all people.” She did laugh this time as they both remembered the incident with the potted plant he bought her for Valentine’s Day. He had thought it was just a pretty flowered plant, and bought it from a vendor in an alley while he and his partner were on a stake out--not one of his brighter ideas. Later they found out that the plant was somewhat poisonous and both he and Hermione were in bed for a week with fever and hallucinations of giant flowers attacking them.
“Well, I think it’d be more fun if you figured this one out on your own,” she said pleasantly, something unnervingly mischievous in her smile. Ron frowned with suspicion.
“Why do I feel like you’re not telling me something?” Hermione stood and placed a hand lovingly on his cheek with a sigh.
“Because I’m not,” she rounded the desk and grabbed a file from her cabinet, “Let me know what you come up with, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes.” She waved cheerfully and left him in her office. Ron was a bit deflated that Hermione wouldn’t just tell him what to get the prat. He tried to work it out for a couple minutes when there was a knock at the door. Ron was about to tell the knocker that Hermione was out when he saw his best mate’s head peak inside.
“Oh, Ron,” Harry said with a grin, his cheeks slightly pink. “Where’s ‘Mione?” Ron raised an eyebrow.
“Are you blushing?” he asked, smirking. “And she’s gone to a meeting.” Harry coughed, and came into Hermione’s office.
“”No,” Harry said firmly, though he glanced behind him for a second. “No, it’s just warm out in the hallway.” Ron shrugged.
“I came here to ask for the wife’s help with my Secret Santa draw, but she refuses to help me,” he emphasized his suffering with a long drawn out sigh. “Who did you get?”
“Sarah,” Harry replied--Sarah was their department’s secretary. “I came to ask Hermione for help too. No idea what to get the woman...we never talk.” Ron nodded, though he still felt his draw was worse.
“I’d take your pick in a heartbeat. Guess who I got?” He paused for dramatic effect. “Draco Malfoy. What rotten luck, eh?” Harry, who had been playing with a glass paperweight on Hermione’s desk, dropped it suddenly. His friend swore loudly and spelled pieces back together.
“Yeah, rotten luck for you.”
“Well if he was your pick I’m sure you’d have no problem thinking of something. You two seem to get along well now, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Harry sounded a bit odd when he said this. “Good friends.” Now, his best mate stared off as if lost in thought and they sat in silence for a minute while Ron watched him look at the paperweight as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.
“What’s eatin’ you?” Ron asked warily. Everyone was acting strange today, though he had to admit that lately Harry had been distracted and somewhat distant. In the past few weeks he had a new tendency of spacing out during meetings, earning teases from his partner about the falling out of his “constant vigilance.” Harry sighed and gave him a smile that told Ron he should have noticed something but didn’t, the same kind of smile that Hermione had given him plenty of times, including today.
“Nothing.” He looked up at Ron brightly. “Here, I’ll help you out. Draco likes sweets, especially chocolates. Order a specialty box from Belgium...even a small box he’ll appreciate. Or if that’s a lot of work, there’s a book at Flourish that he’s been looking at lately. He flips through the same one every time we stop there. He has a favorite quill brand too from a store in Paris...I believe they take mail-orders...” Then, reason for Harry’s odd behavior hit Ron like a whomping willow. His eyes went wide and round, but Harry mistook the look. “Yeah, what a snob, right? Who needs quills from Paris?” Ron nodded dumbly. Harry and Malfoy. The thought had never occurred to him, but now it was painfully obvious. He groaned inwardly, his Secret Santa dilemma out the window with this new bit of knowledge. You’ve got to be kidding me. Ron sorted through the last few times he had been around Harry and Malfoy and there was no doubt that Harry was smitten--the looks, the laughing, the awkward replies from Harry, the blushing. Ron’s mind back-pedalled. The blushing. Harry had come in all flustered.
“Hey, you know...Malfoy was here just before I came in,” Ron said casually, keeping a close eye on Harry. Harry grinned.
“I know,” his friend’s eyes lit up, “I ran into him by the lift.” Ron wanted to put his head in his hands. Oh, Harry, he thought dolefully. Then, he felt hope spike for a moment--there was a chance Harry had run into someone, anyone, else that would maybe make him blush on his way to Hermione’s office.
“See anyone else on your way here?” Ron asked hopefully. Harry thought for a second and then shook his head.
“Nope.” Damn. “Why?” Shit.
“Oh nothing, just curious,” Ron answered quickly. “Well thanks for the help! I think I’ll go...ah...work on that case...the, uh, new one. Hah.” He got to his feet quickly with Harry looking at him with concern.
“You alright, Ron?” Ron nodded and smiled nervously. “Yeah, see you ‘round, Harry.” Harry shrugged and Ron closed the door behind him. His best friend had a thing for Draco Malfoy and he was the last to know. As Ron headed back to his office, he was surprised to find that he was more upset with himself for not noticing than Hermione or Harry not simply telling him. With resolve, Ron decided he would make it up to his best friend somehow.
He was about to enter his office when he noticed Malfoy was heading in his direction, reading while he walked. Malfoy barely looked up, but Ron decided maybe he should start thinking of Draco Malfoy as a friend instead of a creature he had to endure to be in Harry’s company. “Hey, Malf--Draco.” The other auror glanced up in surprise, then covered it up with a smirk.
“Yes, Ron?” Draco said with charm that he had never used on Ron before. Ron rolled his eyes.
“Just trying to be friendly,” he replied with annoyance, forgetting his “friends” idea. Draco’s eyes narrowed.
“Why?” He asked plainly. Ron wracked his brain for a good response and settled on a partial truth.
“Well, you’re Harry’s friend now...so I figure...” Ron struggled to find words that did not sound lame, but failed, and he noted Draco starting to smile in amusement at his attempt. “Hell!” Ron said finally, “I need a drink, want to hit up a pub?” Draco looked at his watch and then back up at Ron wearing an expression that was somehow suspicious and amused at the same time.
“Sure, Weasley. See you at Riley’s in 15 minutes.” As soon as Draco was out of sight, Ron ran into his office and leaned against the door after closing it quickly. He exhaled deeply. It could be a long, long evening, but he was doing it for Harry. If Harry liked the prat, then he’d at least try.
------
Draco rounded the corner with his mind full of questions. Weasley and he did not particularly like each other. Well, they didn’t hate each other, and he got the feeling that Weasley enjoyed their banter as much as Draco did...mostly. Going out for drinks like a couple of work pals had never happened and he was curious as to the motive. Weasley seemed to want to do it because he and Harry were getting along so well.
Draco smiled warmly. Potter. They had only been auror partners for four months, but their chemistry was amazing--work chemistry, that is. They made a great team, and Draco had to admit that working with the Chosen One was rather fantastic. Harry was sharp, thorough, intelligent, and his instincts were pretty phenomenal. Of course, he never told the Golden Boy these things: it was hard enough keeping his crush to himself. If he started complimenting the man, it would be very hard to keep his bad-boy, aloof persona in check. As soon as they started working together, Draco had noticed that Harry Potter was a bit more than he remembered. For one thing the man seemed to want Draco to know that there were no hard feelings about the past, which was not a common thing when he met people from his difficult childhood. After just a couple weeks, Draco realized he watched Potter an inordinate amount of the time they worked together on cases. He watched Harry walk, chat, research, plan, and laugh with his friends; he noticed the fit of Harry’s auror robes, the depth of his green eyes, and by happy chance he felt the softness of Harry’s dark hair one time when they fell through the floor of an old house chasing a criminal--Draco had landed on Harry and it might have been the most painful and fascinating incident during their time as partners so far.
Potter was extremely patient with Draco, which he couldn’t understand at first until he realized that Potter was simply a good man. He had a thick skin when it came to Draco’s teasing and jibes and actually found Draco pretty funny. The first time he made Harry laugh, he realized with astonishment that it had a nice sound and he wanted Harry to do it more often.
Draco realized he was daydreaming about Potter again and kicked himself. It was a stupid crush. Not only that, but lately the Chosen One had been somewhat distant and distracted. He still smiled and laughed, but the atmosphere around him seemed different and he didn’t seem at ease anymore. At first he thought maybe Potter had caught on to his crush, but then he remembered that Harry could be completely oblivious when these things concerned himself. It annoyed Draco to the point of going to Hermione’s office to ask about it.
Hermione Granger had, somehow, become his friend. He spent much time in her office with Harry as they consulted with her on many of their cases and eventually they went from mutual respect to an easy friendship. When he went to her office today, he casually asked her if something was wrong with Harry. She stared at Draco for a long while with that measuring look she liked to give him before answering that “No, there is nothing particularly wrong with Harry.” Draco did not care for that measuring look. The woman already saw too much and he suspected that she was on to him, however she said nothing else and they had a nice chat till her husband came in and disrupted them. And now...now, he was on his way to have drinks with his partner’s best friend. Draco sighed. Harry made everything complicated.
Draco tossed on his cold weather wear and headed for Riley’s Pub down the street for his first outing with Ron Weasley, for there would be many in fact. That first night, Draco and the ginger fell into a drinking pattern similar to school boys trying to prove who could drink the most. They both got piss drunk, something Draco would never have done if not for the surprisingly amusing company of Weasley, who turned out to be quite fun. They insulted each other, laughed, cheered, and eventually stumbled on home. His suspicions had a hard time of sticking and he eventually had to assume that Ron Weasley really did just want them to get along well because Harry and he were such “great partners,” so said the drunk auror.
During the rest of November, Draco found himself having drinks with Ron every few days, and calling him Ron. Harry was apparently confused by his best friend’s motive as well and gave Weasley many curious looks at his new friendliness towards Draco, but that was all. Since Harry was still playing the stay-away-from-Draco game, Draco found himself latching on to the nearness of Harry by being close with Harry’s friends. It sounded sad, even to himself, but he couldn’t help it. The man was becoming more and more skittish and it was infuriating. Potter refused to be alone with Draco and if it happened he excused himself politely.
It was midway through December when Ron and Draco decided to have some holiday shots at Riley’s after work. They were on their fourth round when Draco overtook Ron completely with an extra four hot-apple-pie shots in order to drown out the depression that Potter was causing him. He was feeling blissfully drunk and they were in a heated discussion about how stupid Secret Santa was for some reason.
“I,” Draco began loudly, “already took care of my draw’s gift. I bet you’ve been slacking!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Ron who laughed so much he doubled over. Draco frowned. “What’s so funny, Red?” Ron’s could barely breath.
“I wish someone could know just how hard I’m working on it. It’s ridiculous, I tell you!” the red headed auror waved his hand and the waitress brought him another beer. Draco was about to comment when who should walk in but Harry bloody Potter. Ron waved his friend over, who seemed surprised to see the two of them there, though it should have been a common occurrence by now.
“Ron, Draco,” Potter greeted them both with a bemused smile. “Having a little pre-holiday-party party?” Ron raised his glass.
“To Harry! For stating the obvious!” Ron yelled and clinked his glass with Draco’s. They cheered and drank healthily. Harry shook his head with a laugh, and Draco couldn’t help but stare with interest at the sight of Harry with snow melting in his hair and cheeks pink with cold: he looked positively delectable. Harry met his eyes for moment and then his smile wavered.
“Well, I’ve just got to go and, um, I just came in to get out of the cold for a bit. I’ll see you on Monday, Draco,” Harry said in a rush and he barely looked at Ron as he headed for the door. When the door closed, Draco dropped his head onto the table with a thud.
“What’s wrong, Draco?” Ron asked, sounding completely content and not the least bit concerned. Draco suddenly became extremely angry.
“Your best friend is what’s wrong!” he hissed, still staring at the table grain because he couldn’t be arsed to lift his head. “He’s driving me insane.” Ron’s mug hit the table loudly, causing Draco to sit up in annoyance.
“Ow,” he said, rubbing his ears as if that would help with the shock of the noise. Ron didn’t apologize, but Draco saw real worry in the other auror’s face now.
“What do you mean insane? You don’t hate him again do you?” Draco rolled his eyes and waved his hand for a beer.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” was Draco’s immediate answer. I love him, you idiot. Ron’s expression eased as if he were relieved.
“Oh okay, good then. So what’s the problem?” Draco ignored the question and they got back onto the topic of Secret Santa. They laughed and traded comments on what they would get for whom. Draco was definitely beyond his usual drunk and they left the bar propped up against each other for support, though it was probably more that Draco needed the support because walking had suddenly become a terribly impossible and dangerous task. They made their way unsteadily down the sidewalk toward Draco’s flat.
“Harry got the ssssecretary, Ssssarah. He has no clue what he’s ssssupposed to get her for Sssssecret Sssssanta,” Ron said, emphasizing the “S” in all the words for some reason. Draco felt jealousy roar in his chest.
“Stupid whore,” Draco said under his breath. “I see her making eyes...at MY partner.” Ron laughed, almost dropping Draco. “Watch it, Weasley!”
“You sound jealous, Malfoy.” Draco scoffed, though the movement made him dizzy.
“Shut up.” There was more laughter from Ron.
“Well, if Haaaarry had YOU for Secret Santa,” Ron began in a sing-song voice, “What would the best gift he could give yooou?” This was around the time when Draco started to drop out of the conversation. His mind wasn’t on the same page with his mouth.
“He could gift-wrap himself and sit under my tree,” Draco heard himself say before he could stop himself. He didn’t have long to be mortified however because he passed out there on the sidewalk.
------
Ron stared down at his drunken friend in shock. One minute they were hobbling along and the next Draco was dead weight; Ron was unprepared and had to set Draco down on the sidewalk gently or both of them would have toppled down onto the icy pavement. That wasn’t the shocking bit however, it was the comment before that. “He could gift-wrap himself and sit under my tree,” the Slytherin had said. Granted, it was a drunken confession, but all signs had been pointing in that direction.
At first, Ron simply wanted Harry to know that he was fine with Draco, which was the purpose of all the happy hour jaunts. Then, he decided that maybe he could find out for Harry if Draco was into him. This proved rather difficult because he couldn’t just ask a bloke if that bloke liked his best mate.
Ron cast a clumsy heating charm that warmed half of the sidewalk. Whoops, overkill. He watched as snow melted a good meter around Malfoy on all sides. Ron wasn’t sure who to feel more sorry for--Harry or Draco. Harry seemed at a loss of how to proceed with his crush, and having a crush on Draco Malfoy in the first place? Ron shook his head. And Malfoy. The way Harry was acting recently was driving Ron insane, so he could only imagine how Draco must be feeling as Harry decided that avoidance was the best course of action. Honestly, tonight was the first time Draco had let himself get drunk enough to show his frustration, jealousy, and preference. Ron had been looking for it for the past few weeks, but now he knew for certain. Ron smiled-even Hermione had said all she had was speculation. He took some deep breaths to get his buzzed mind settled.
“Okay,” said Ron out loud to no one. “I think I have my Secret Santa gift figured out.”
---------
It was the day of the office Christmas party and Harry was miserable. He had done his Secret Santa shopping and settled on a bottle of perfume that Hermione had suggested for the secretary, but he was hardly in the holiday spirit. His current endeavor to not be in Draco’s company for too long was proving a strenuous goal. If he didn’t leave the room or make an excuse, Harry could feel himself blushing and giggling like an idiot within minutes of Draco’s company. All he, the great Harry Potter, could think to do in that situation was run. It was grating, really: the defeater of Voldemort scared because he has fallen for his auror partner who used to hate him.
Harry sighed. The chances of Draco feeling the same were miniscule if his recent behavior was anything to go by. His handsome partner started to become more and more irritated as the holidays drew near and a lot of the feeling seemed to be directed toward Harry. After running into Ron and Draco at the pub last week, Ron said that Malfoy was avoiding him and claimed it was because Ron had seen the Slytherin completely wasted.
“Don’t worry about him,” Ron had said with a mysterious grin, “He’s just embarrassed.”
Harry pocketed his Secret Santa gift and showed up at the ministry ballroom without a date. Even in his current state of holiday gloom, he was able to appreciate the beauty of the Christmas party. Snow fell from the night sky ceiling and vanished just before it reached the tops of peoples’ heads, all the tables were decorated with Christmas bulbs that danced to the music played by the hired band, and soft icicle lights made the room glow a warm gold and red hue.
“Harry!” Hermione came toward him with a sly grin on her face. They hugged as if they hadn’t seen each other in years.
“Hermione, you look great,” he said, smiling. Her hair was done up in a lovely bun and she was wearing a rather sexy dark red dress that probably had Ron wondering when the couple could go home.
“Thank you,” she giggled and looked behind him. “I think Ron would like to have a word with you.” He turned to see his friend coming toward him with a strange look on his face.
“You alright?” Harry asked with concern.
“Hey!” Ron said with unusual gaiety. “Can you come with me…somewhere…for a second?” Harry was perplexed, but followed Ron anyway out of the ballroom.
“Where are we going?” He asked. His friend seemed rather pleased with himself and anxious at the same time. “I only just got here.”
“Oh nowhere, nowhere. Just wanted to show you something really amazing in the office.” Harry shrugged and followed obediently; going upstairs was loads better than watching Draco Malfoy in the magical Christmas-y splendor and wishing for something he couldn’t have. As they entered the lift, his mind was still fixed on Draco, as always: the grace in his movements, the line of his jaw, the wit he carried, and the courage he had. He really needed to do something about how he felt. This constant depression was insane, and he had also been feeling ashamed for his behavior; he was being a complete arse and he knew it. He straightened and decided that tonight he should tell Draco how he felt. His mind had just reached this conclusion when Ron ushered him into a back room on the law enforcement floor. The room had remarkably high ceilings, one of the tallest Christmas trees he had ever seen, and twinkling lights that looked like stars draped overhead, dramatically falling and moving. The soft sound of an orchestra playing Christmas music sounded all over the room, though they were the only ones there. As they entered a fireplace came out of the wall to the right and a shaggy white carpet unrolled in front of it.
“This is amazing, Ron,” Harry said in wonder as he looked about the room. “Did you set this up here?”
“Sorry, Harry,” he heard quietly behind him before he felt himself falling to the ground. Ron sent a charm to cushion the fall. “You’ll thank me tomorrow…I hope,” were the last fading words Harry heard before he fell into sleep, too quickly to even ask Ron what the fuck was going on.
When Harry awoke his auror senses told him he was safe for the moment, but restrained. He opened his eyes slowly and realized he was still in the room Ron had taken him to. Ron. What in bloody hell is going on? he thought angrily. Ron is seriously going to pay if this is some prank. Harry couldn’t find his wand so he settled for struggling in his bonds like a muggle. He realized, to his horror, that he was wrapped like a Christmas tree present, complete with a red bow around his neck and a Santa hat atop his head. Ron probably wanted to embarrass him and have a group from the department walk in and see him like this. What a prat! Harry tried in vain to get out of his ribbon restraints but it was no use. Finally he sat and waited for the conclusion of Ron’s prank so he could go home and plot revenge. He was in the middle of plotting something particularly vicious when he heard footsteps down the hall and heard that person approach the door to his prison.
“A little help,” Harry called, hoping it was someone who wouldn’t photograph him and spread it all over the Daily Prophet. The person who then entered the room made Harry’s heart leap out of his chest. It was Draco.
------
Draco eyed the crowd for Harry, but the Gryffindor was nowhere to be seen, so he snagged a champagne glass from a waiter walking by instead. He wondered if Harry had changed his mind about coming to the party...not that he had dressed especially nice tonight. He glanced down at his newly bought dress robes and frowned, annoyed at himself. Yes, I did.
“Malfoy!” Draco heard Ron call him but didn’t turn to acknowledge the man. He was still too embarrassed by what did or did not happen the week before. The night of the holiday shots was still a bit blurry, but he felt like he may have divulged too much information. Ron caught up to him. “Hey, nice to see you too,” Ron said sarcastically. Draco sipped his champagne and donned a face of incomprehension.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“Bollocks,” Ron said with a laugh. Draco glared and finished his drink wondering when he had lost the ability to annoy the ginger.
“Well, what is it, Weasley?” Ron looked shifty all of a sudden.
“I saw Harry head up to the department for some reason, could you go get him?” Draco looked at Ron like he had grown two extra heads.
“You want me to go fetch Harry for you?” Ron shook his head innocently.
“I can’t leave, the first song is going to start soon and Hermione wants to dance.” Draco considered his options and found that he had no reason not to do it other than the fact that he didn’t want to, which would have been a fine reason before he’d become friends with Weasley.
“Fine,” he said, sounding anything but pleased to help. “I knew having drinks with you that first time was a bad idea.” He left the ballroom, receiving an unsettling grin from Ron and wink from Hermione on his way. Gryffindors are insane, he concluded wryly.
He rode the lift deep in thought. Crazy ideas of telling Potter how he felt flew in and out of his mind teasing him with the good and bad possibilities of what could happen. It might be the perfect time with the holiday cheer and the beautiful decorations all over, or it could be that there would never be a good time and his crush would fade as most things in his life did. The only thing that never seemed to change in his life was the presence of Harry--as a rival, as an enemy, as an annoyance, as a savior, and now as a colleague and friend. The Gryffindor was always there nagging at him and now, perhaps, he had figured out why. Draco shook himself and made a final decision: if there was some clear-cut sign, he would come clean to Potter. It has to be very clear though...I mean, this sign has to hit me in the face.
He was just about to open Harry’s office when he noticed that light was showing at the bottom of a door at the very end of the hallway. Curious, he made his way down the rest of the hallway and heard light, instrumental, Christmas music sounding from within the room.
“A little help,” he heard a familiar voice call from inside. Draco’s body tensed. Harry? He pushed the door open slowly and peered inside. Draco’s mouth dropped open in a very un-Malfoy like way at several things that came into view: the gigantic Christmas tree, the lights, the furry rug on the floor, the fireplace right across from it. First and foremost, however, was Harry, seated in a chair by the base of the tree with his body bound to a velvety recliner with red and gold Christmas ribbons. The man had a Santa hat on and a fucking red bow tied around his neck, looking like the best Christmas gift Draco had ever seen. Okay, that might be a sign, Draco thought vaguely.
They both stared at each other for a long while.
“What is this?” Draco said finally, his throat dry. Harry broke out of his trance as well, blushing profusely.
“I...Ron knocked me out and put me here,” Harry said quietly. Draco considered what was before him and nodded that he definitely had divulged too much information last week. He shook his head at his own stupidity and moved around the chair to work at undoing Harry’s ties. A Christmas present from my Secret Santa, huh? A nice thought.
“Sorry, Harry,” Draco said softly, remembering his recent vow. “This was my fault.” Harry stiffened in his chair.
“What?” The Chosen One gaped at him in confusion.
“I was drunk last week when you saw us at the pub and I told Ron something personal.” Draco tugged at the ribbon knots with a spell but they wouldn’t budge so he set about doing it the muggle way to keep his hands busy. He took a deep breath, “I believe Ron has me for Secret Santa, yes?” There was an awkward silence, till finally he heard Harry’s sharp intake of breath signaling that he had put the pieces together. Draco’s face grew warm even though Harry couldn’t see him. And just like that, he knows.
“So I’m...Ron, he...because you...” Despite his own nervousness, Draco smiled at Harry’s bewilderment. “You’re joking,” the Gryffindor said at least. Draco stopped what he was doing and made his way to the other side of the chair to face Harry, kneeling down so that Harry could see his face.
“Are you seriously that oblivious?” he asked, watching with amusement Harry’s expression, which was somewhat annoyed now. As he searched the Chosen One’s face he thought he saw hurt flit across the angry look he was all too familiar with-a sudden thought struck him. “Are you upset because I fancy you or are you upset because you think I’m joking?” All amusement and teasing was gone from Draco’s voice. He rested both hands on the arms of the chair, gripping tightly to hide the slight trembling of his fingers. Potter seemed dumbfounded by the question and his expression told Draco that the Gryffindor was having some sort of inner battle about what to say next. Potter was unsure of what to make of it all--that was obvious--but Draco was more interested in the fact that his crush was also tied to a chair without his wand in reach. Now or never, Draco thought recklessly.
He met Harry’s guarded green eyes and, assuming he might not have another chance, Draco leaned forward and kissed him.
----
Harry had been truly shocked by the Slytherin’s insinuation about Ron making himself a present for Draco, and doubted that such a thing could be possible. Surely Ron had no idea about his preference for his partner, and in that case Ron would never simply offer Harry up like a side of beef as a Christmas present. The logical conclusion was that this was all a gag and the thought made him angry. But then, Draco had kissed him and every doubt flit out of thought with the simple contact. His skin grew warm and he automatically leaned forward, trying to apply his own pressure to the kiss. Draco reacted with some surprise, but then Harry felt strong hands grab his neck and their mouths opened readily for an onslaught of tongues and teeth. Something burst in his chest and all the weeks of running from his feelings for Draco seemed like utter waste. They kissed each other as if there was no time left in the world until, finally, his partner pulled back for air.
Draco’s lips were reddened, his perfectly styled hair fell over his left eye, and Harry instinctively tried to reach his arm forward to tuck the blond hair back. He struggled against the knots once more.
“Get me out of these ribbons.” His voice sounded huskier than normal, but Draco sat back, as if he couldn’t believe what happened. Harry kicked himself for not noticing any of Draco’s preference for him sooner-he certainly believed that the Slytherin was not joking now.
“You were avoiding me…” Draco said frowning with an accusatory tint. Harry knew that now Draco was the one unsure of what was going on.
“I didn’t want you to know that I had a crush on you,” Harry said bluntly, feeling his old Gryffindor self coming back as if rejuvenated by the kiss. “I was sure it was obvious and that you couldn’t feel the same way.” Draco snapped out of his thoughts and smirked haughtily, his characteristic, Slytherin self coming back as well.
“That’ll teach you to think, Potter.” Before Harry could retort, Draco launched forward and latched onto Harry’s mouth again. He straddled the chair this time and Harry felt his body react invitingly to the attention of the man he’d been dreaming about for weeks. His mind could barely process anything as Draco devoured him thoroughly and then, suddenly, he gasped as Draco’s hand had slipped down and caressed him through his trousers. His eyes shot open and Draco had the most wicked and sexy smile he had ever seen on anyone. Holy fuck, he thought in awe. I’m doomed. Draco made the movement again and Harry instinctively tried to move against the Slytherin’s hand. The man made a tisking noise and leaned forward to nibble on the line between Harry’s throat and jaw. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this to you,” the blond said in a low, tantalizing voice while moving his hand over and over again.
Harry would have stopped the man if he could have because he was getting terribly close to the breaking point without ever even touching Draco. The thought jolted him and he swallowed several times to try and get his dry throat working again enough to talk.
“Draco, untie me,” he said hoarsely. Draco leaned back, his eyes dark and mischievous.
“Not having fun the way you are?” Draco teased. Harry chuckled and took some deep breaths.
“I need to be able to touch you,” he responded after a moment. The Slytherin’s eyes darkened even more, if possible, and he levered himself off of Harry’s lap and moved around to get the damned ties off. Draco made quick work of it this time and Harry felt the ribbon loosen. He started to rise but felt a firm hand on his shoulder.
“How about you stay right there?” Draco said close to his ear, causing tingling sensations down Harry’s spine. Harry decided that Draco had very, VERY, good ideas when the blond knelt in front of him again and eyed the button on his trousers. His heart pounded as he watched the Slytherin’s pale skin glow warm with the light from the fireplace.
------
Draco had to hand it to Ron Weasley. This was shaping up to be the best Christmas he could ever remember having. He would have thought more about congratulating Weasley for his audacity, but all thoughts were on Harry now. He could hardly believe it: he fancied Harry and Harry fancied him. Who would’ve thought? The plan was to kiss Potter before he was free and able to hex him senseless, as he knew the talented Gryffindor was very capable of doing just that. But then the man had kissed him back and all hell broke loose. Whatever he was feeling, Harry seemed to be matching him because the Gryffindor kissed as if he had been waiting to for ages. Stupid Gryffindor should have just told me, Draco chided, and then remembered that he had never said anything as well.
He had begun to explore Harry more interestingly, when the Savior asked to be untied. To be honest, Draco kind of enjoyed the bondage kink, but at this point he’d probably do whatever Harry wanted, especially when the man said what he wanted in that particular tone of voice. Draco had never heard from him speak like that before: “I need to be able to touch you.” Fuck. He practically jumped over the chair to get the ribbons undone. When they were off, Harry began to stand up, but Draco thought that his current position had promise.
Harry watched him with dark green eyes and a smile that made Draco’s pulse quicken. Good god. Just a look and I’m ready to take a cold shower. He eyed the area of Harry’s trousers that most interested him and noticed as he reached for the buttons that the Savior was biting his lip unconsciously-a rather enticing picture. When he finally reached in and grasped Harry’s considerable cock from within the man’s pants, a moan escaped the Gryffindor that jolted Draco’s own erection, and now he was the one biting his lip. Harry’s gaze stayed locked with Draco’s as he pulled lightly over the heated flesh, though the Chosen One’s breaths grew shorter with each stroke and addition of pressure. The sight was incredible and heady to have Harry Potter before him and undone. Harry’s eyes were closed now and Draco grinned wickedly. He let go of the lovely cock abruptly. When Harry opened his eyes, filled with a lusty haze, Draco leaned forward and took all of the man into his mouth.
Harry choked and grabbed onto Draco’s hair like a lifeline. It hurt, but Draco ignored pain in his scalp. He moved up and down quickly, matching the speed his hands had reached and sucking on the head gently. Draco had both hands on Harry’s hips to keep him from moving too much, but it didn’t take long before it was getting hard to control his lean and fit partner.
“Draco,” Harry said breathily, the sound of his name spurred Draco on faster. Then, Harry came, his beautiful body taught for one moment and then shuddering the next as he emptied down Draco’s throat. Draco swallowed every drop, and raised himself up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand with a smile who knew bordered on arrogant. Harry was quite fetching with his face flushed and warm, and his clothes a rumpled mess. He tried to get up, but Harry’s hands were still tangled in his hair and the man was looking at Draco as if he were the most incredible person alive.
Draco suddenly felt shy.
------
Harry wondered if he had ever had such a magnificent blow job before and decided, after a moment or two of catching his breath, that he had not. Draco had a self-satisfied look on his face when he wiped his mouth-a well-earned self-satisfied look. He stared at the blond openly, not trying to hide any of the affection he had been trying to keep to himself before. To his surprise, Draco’s cheeks darkened adorably. He untangled his hands from the blond hair gently and pulled Draco up for a lingering kiss that turned into a heated one quickly. In a matter of minutes, Draco was on his lap once more with both hands holding the sides of his face gently. Some fearsome Slytherin this one is, Harry thought with a smile.
He stroked the inside of Draco’s mouth with his tongue as if all the candy in the world were there, and noticed with pleasure that Draco had a very sensitive mouth. He bit at Draco’s lip playfully and reached down with both hands to grip the hardness of Draco’s throbbing erection. Draco growled and pushed forward, pushing their lips together again. This time, however, he may have pushed too hard because the chair toppled backward.
The fall happened so quickly that Harry didn’t even pull his hands out of Draco’s trousers, where they were happily and inappropriately placed. The chair collided with the base branches of the giant Christmas tree and Christmas bulbs dropped and shattered around them in a flurry of colors. They hit the ground with a yelp and looked at each other with bleary bemusement, their faces inches from one another.
“Happy Christmas, Draco,” Harry said with a chuckle, though that alone was hard in their current state. Draco rolled his eyes, but leaned down to kiss him again-Harry assumed this was Draco’s way of shutting him up. It was going to be a very merry Christmas indeed.
------
“Do you think things are going well, Hermione?” Ron was swaying Hermione slowly to the music on the crowded dance floor. The party was in full swing now and it was hard not to bump into anyone, so Ron and Hermione settled for one small piece of the floor where he could barely turn her around in place. He was nervous; it had been an hour with no word from either of his friends. “If things didn’t work out and they’re angry with me, you’ll protect me won’t you?” Hermione laughed.
“Don’t be silly. I think your plan was sweet for the both of them…even if it is meddling.”
“Maybe I should check on them?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.
“But what if things are going…well?” Hermione asked with a smirk. Ron shut his eyes warding off the mental images trying to break through his imagination.
“Oh, don’t say that,” he said with a groan. Of course, he wanted things to go well between Harry and Draco, but he didn’t need to think about specific mechanics of it all. Still, he was curious if his handiwork was received well or not. Neville interrupted them and Ron left Hermione to dance with their old friend while he hurried up to the law enforcement floor. He tapped his foot impatiently in the elevator and practically jogged down the hallway toward the back room. When he reached the door, his hand stopped at the door knob. Perhaps it would be best not to open and just listen and make sure it was still occupied. It was hard to tell with the Christmas music still on in there, but then he heard a distinct scuffling. Relieved, Ron turned to go and leave the two alone until he heard furniture crashing and someone yell in pain. Fear took him for a moment and he turned back and walked into the room to help whoever needed helping. He realized, he should have waited a moment longer before jumping to conclusions and barging in.
The commotion had been because the two had been entangled on top of the recliner and the chair had fallen backward, breaking the chair and sending hundreds of Christmas ornaments crashing to the floor as they knocked the giant tree. Luckily, the two aurors were still clothed, even though it appeared they wouldn’t have remained so for long. Harry and Draco stared at him in mild surprise, and Ron could see they were fairly dazed and disheveled. He tried not to notice that only one hand was visible and it was Draco’s as he braced himself against the floor; Harry’s hands were lord knows where. Embarrassment flashed through Ron for a split-second before he realized his plan had been a success. To the obvious shock of Harry and Draco, Ron grinned slyly.
“Hah! It worked. Totally nailed it.” He laughed and headed out of the room. “Happy Christmas from your Secret Santa, Malfoy!”
As the door closed behind him, he heard Malfoy reply back, “Happy Christmas from your Secret Santa as well, Weasley.” Eh? Ron glanced back at the closed door. Malfoy’s my Secret Santa? He sped back down to the ballroom and went to the side of the room filled with gifts. An old man stood there blocking the table, dressed as a rather old elf.
“Name please,” the old man croaked, raising his wand.
“Ron Weasley.” The man turned around and cast a spell. One small package floated up out from the stack and floated on over to Ron.
“Happy Christmas, sir.” Ron smiled back and headed to Hermione, who was sitting at a table with Neville and Luna.
“Got your gift already?” Hermione asked with a bit of reproof. “We don’t usually do that till the end of the party.” Ron sat down with the gift in front of him.
“Malfoy told me he was my Secret Santa,” Ron said eagerly, beginning to rip the package open. “I want to see if the gift he gave me is as good as the one I gave him.” The wrapping paper fell away to reveal a bright red box with no markings. The other three at the table watched as Ron lifted the top carefully to reveal a box filled with white tissue paper and something red lying on top. “What’s this?” He lifted the red thing up carefully and held it against his body to get a good look at it. There was an awkward silence until he finally asked, “Lingerie?”
Indeed it was. The skimpy material was bare and lacey red. “For me?” he asked in confusion. The others at the table laughed, and Hermione’s face was dark red.
“I believe that’s for me, love,” she said in an exasperated whisper. Ron’s mouth formed a perfect “O” and he gazed at the garment with a bit more appreciation.
“Dammit,” Ron said, surprising Hermione.
“Excuse me?” Hermione said, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Ron grinned wide.
“Malfoy beat me after all.”
Author: ???
Rating: NC-17…only a little =)
Characters: Harry/Draco
Prompt(s): #15. “Ron gets Draco in the Ministry Secret Santa and is stumped. At least he is, till he realises all he'd need to do is stick a bow on his best mate” -I deviated a bit…in a good way I hope. ; )
Summary: Ron shows just how great a friend he is.
Word Count: ~8.2K
Ron stared at the red and green holiday card on his desk in horror. Draco Malfoy? Bloody hell. Of all the people in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement he had to get Draco Malfoy for the stupid Secret Santa pool. He had completely forgotten about the ridiculous ordeal until about five minutes ago when the happy Christmas-colored envelope soared into his office and landed cheerfully on his desk.
“Good Tidings, Auror Ron Weasley! Your Secret Santa Gift Recipient shall be Auror Draco Malfoy!” These curly, gold inked letters looked up at Ron with what he thought was a smug expression. If he got something small or silly for the git, he’d never hear the end of it and be at the receiving end of Malfoy’s mockery for who knows how long. They got along decently now, meaning they didn’t attack or maim each other, but they weren’t friends--name calling and childish teasing happened occasionally, though it never escalated like it had while they were at school. This was mostly due to Harry.
Everyone assumed Ron and his best mate would be partners, but they both agreed it might be best to branch off and somehow the universe decided that Harry and Malfoy would end up as auror partners. Well, the universe and the entire Ministry of Magic, which approved greatly of those on both sides of the war to “kiss and make up,” as it were, and so Ron put up with the Slytherin auror on occasion.
It was half an hour before he shoved the Secret Santa notice inside his desk and made for Hermione’s office on the fifth floor--the International Magical Office of Law. He nodded and smiled to many of the other wizards and witches on his way, they were all fairly used to seeing Ron intruding to visit his wife daily. He got to her office, grinning as he usually did at the name plate on the door: “Hermione Weasley.” Looks good.
“‘Mione, do you have a minute?” The door was ajar, so Ron strolled in expecting to see Hermione’s desk piled high with files and his wife reading over her latest messages from the department head--the man did like to have Hermione’s opinion on almost everything.
“Weasley, I’m afraid Granger is busy at the moment,” Malfoy said with that annoying smirk on his face. Ron halted a few steps through the doorway and frowned. Malfoy was sitting on the edge of Hermione’s desk spinning his wand in his left hand and staring at a leaf of paper held in his right. Hermione gave an exasperated sigh.
“It’s Weasley,” she said for the millionth time before sharing a smile with Ron--causing him to smile back immediately. She had a way of taking away his annoyance with the blond auror. Malfoy slid to the floor and dropped the piece of parchment back on Hermione’s desk.
“Well, Granger, I’m off,” Draco winked at her and grinned evilly at Ron before sauntering out of her office and spelling the door shut behind him. Hermione chuckled and tilted her head expectantly in Ron’s direction. He gave her a kiss and ranted to her about the Christmas present and Secret Santa nonsense. Her expression was amused the entire time he was speaking till finally he asked.
“What’s so funny?” She met his eyes and coughed, as if to curtail laughter.
“Oh nothing, nothing. Do you have any ideas for a good present?” He let his head fall back on the chair he had plopped down on during his complaining.
“No, of course not. I’m pants at gift giving--you should know that of all people.” She did laugh this time as they both remembered the incident with the potted plant he bought her for Valentine’s Day. He had thought it was just a pretty flowered plant, and bought it from a vendor in an alley while he and his partner were on a stake out--not one of his brighter ideas. Later they found out that the plant was somewhat poisonous and both he and Hermione were in bed for a week with fever and hallucinations of giant flowers attacking them.
“Well, I think it’d be more fun if you figured this one out on your own,” she said pleasantly, something unnervingly mischievous in her smile. Ron frowned with suspicion.
“Why do I feel like you’re not telling me something?” Hermione stood and placed a hand lovingly on his cheek with a sigh.
“Because I’m not,” she rounded the desk and grabbed a file from her cabinet, “Let me know what you come up with, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes.” She waved cheerfully and left him in her office. Ron was a bit deflated that Hermione wouldn’t just tell him what to get the prat. He tried to work it out for a couple minutes when there was a knock at the door. Ron was about to tell the knocker that Hermione was out when he saw his best mate’s head peak inside.
“Oh, Ron,” Harry said with a grin, his cheeks slightly pink. “Where’s ‘Mione?” Ron raised an eyebrow.
“Are you blushing?” he asked, smirking. “And she’s gone to a meeting.” Harry coughed, and came into Hermione’s office.
“”No,” Harry said firmly, though he glanced behind him for a second. “No, it’s just warm out in the hallway.” Ron shrugged.
“I came here to ask for the wife’s help with my Secret Santa draw, but she refuses to help me,” he emphasized his suffering with a long drawn out sigh. “Who did you get?”
“Sarah,” Harry replied--Sarah was their department’s secretary. “I came to ask Hermione for help too. No idea what to get the woman...we never talk.” Ron nodded, though he still felt his draw was worse.
“I’d take your pick in a heartbeat. Guess who I got?” He paused for dramatic effect. “Draco Malfoy. What rotten luck, eh?” Harry, who had been playing with a glass paperweight on Hermione’s desk, dropped it suddenly. His friend swore loudly and spelled pieces back together.
“Yeah, rotten luck for you.”
“Well if he was your pick I’m sure you’d have no problem thinking of something. You two seem to get along well now, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Harry sounded a bit odd when he said this. “Good friends.” Now, his best mate stared off as if lost in thought and they sat in silence for a minute while Ron watched him look at the paperweight as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.
“What’s eatin’ you?” Ron asked warily. Everyone was acting strange today, though he had to admit that lately Harry had been distracted and somewhat distant. In the past few weeks he had a new tendency of spacing out during meetings, earning teases from his partner about the falling out of his “constant vigilance.” Harry sighed and gave him a smile that told Ron he should have noticed something but didn’t, the same kind of smile that Hermione had given him plenty of times, including today.
“Nothing.” He looked up at Ron brightly. “Here, I’ll help you out. Draco likes sweets, especially chocolates. Order a specialty box from Belgium...even a small box he’ll appreciate. Or if that’s a lot of work, there’s a book at Flourish that he’s been looking at lately. He flips through the same one every time we stop there. He has a favorite quill brand too from a store in Paris...I believe they take mail-orders...” Then, reason for Harry’s odd behavior hit Ron like a whomping willow. His eyes went wide and round, but Harry mistook the look. “Yeah, what a snob, right? Who needs quills from Paris?” Ron nodded dumbly. Harry and Malfoy. The thought had never occurred to him, but now it was painfully obvious. He groaned inwardly, his Secret Santa dilemma out the window with this new bit of knowledge. You’ve got to be kidding me. Ron sorted through the last few times he had been around Harry and Malfoy and there was no doubt that Harry was smitten--the looks, the laughing, the awkward replies from Harry, the blushing. Ron’s mind back-pedalled. The blushing. Harry had come in all flustered.
“Hey, you know...Malfoy was here just before I came in,” Ron said casually, keeping a close eye on Harry. Harry grinned.
“I know,” his friend’s eyes lit up, “I ran into him by the lift.” Ron wanted to put his head in his hands. Oh, Harry, he thought dolefully. Then, he felt hope spike for a moment--there was a chance Harry had run into someone, anyone, else that would maybe make him blush on his way to Hermione’s office.
“See anyone else on your way here?” Ron asked hopefully. Harry thought for a second and then shook his head.
“Nope.” Damn. “Why?” Shit.
“Oh nothing, just curious,” Ron answered quickly. “Well thanks for the help! I think I’ll go...ah...work on that case...the, uh, new one. Hah.” He got to his feet quickly with Harry looking at him with concern.
“You alright, Ron?” Ron nodded and smiled nervously. “Yeah, see you ‘round, Harry.” Harry shrugged and Ron closed the door behind him. His best friend had a thing for Draco Malfoy and he was the last to know. As Ron headed back to his office, he was surprised to find that he was more upset with himself for not noticing than Hermione or Harry not simply telling him. With resolve, Ron decided he would make it up to his best friend somehow.
He was about to enter his office when he noticed Malfoy was heading in his direction, reading while he walked. Malfoy barely looked up, but Ron decided maybe he should start thinking of Draco Malfoy as a friend instead of a creature he had to endure to be in Harry’s company. “Hey, Malf--Draco.” The other auror glanced up in surprise, then covered it up with a smirk.
“Yes, Ron?” Draco said with charm that he had never used on Ron before. Ron rolled his eyes.
“Just trying to be friendly,” he replied with annoyance, forgetting his “friends” idea. Draco’s eyes narrowed.
“Why?” He asked plainly. Ron wracked his brain for a good response and settled on a partial truth.
“Well, you’re Harry’s friend now...so I figure...” Ron struggled to find words that did not sound lame, but failed, and he noted Draco starting to smile in amusement at his attempt. “Hell!” Ron said finally, “I need a drink, want to hit up a pub?” Draco looked at his watch and then back up at Ron wearing an expression that was somehow suspicious and amused at the same time.
“Sure, Weasley. See you at Riley’s in 15 minutes.” As soon as Draco was out of sight, Ron ran into his office and leaned against the door after closing it quickly. He exhaled deeply. It could be a long, long evening, but he was doing it for Harry. If Harry liked the prat, then he’d at least try.
------
Draco rounded the corner with his mind full of questions. Weasley and he did not particularly like each other. Well, they didn’t hate each other, and he got the feeling that Weasley enjoyed their banter as much as Draco did...mostly. Going out for drinks like a couple of work pals had never happened and he was curious as to the motive. Weasley seemed to want to do it because he and Harry were getting along so well.
Draco smiled warmly. Potter. They had only been auror partners for four months, but their chemistry was amazing--work chemistry, that is. They made a great team, and Draco had to admit that working with the Chosen One was rather fantastic. Harry was sharp, thorough, intelligent, and his instincts were pretty phenomenal. Of course, he never told the Golden Boy these things: it was hard enough keeping his crush to himself. If he started complimenting the man, it would be very hard to keep his bad-boy, aloof persona in check. As soon as they started working together, Draco had noticed that Harry Potter was a bit more than he remembered. For one thing the man seemed to want Draco to know that there were no hard feelings about the past, which was not a common thing when he met people from his difficult childhood. After just a couple weeks, Draco realized he watched Potter an inordinate amount of the time they worked together on cases. He watched Harry walk, chat, research, plan, and laugh with his friends; he noticed the fit of Harry’s auror robes, the depth of his green eyes, and by happy chance he felt the softness of Harry’s dark hair one time when they fell through the floor of an old house chasing a criminal--Draco had landed on Harry and it might have been the most painful and fascinating incident during their time as partners so far.
Potter was extremely patient with Draco, which he couldn’t understand at first until he realized that Potter was simply a good man. He had a thick skin when it came to Draco’s teasing and jibes and actually found Draco pretty funny. The first time he made Harry laugh, he realized with astonishment that it had a nice sound and he wanted Harry to do it more often.
Draco realized he was daydreaming about Potter again and kicked himself. It was a stupid crush. Not only that, but lately the Chosen One had been somewhat distant and distracted. He still smiled and laughed, but the atmosphere around him seemed different and he didn’t seem at ease anymore. At first he thought maybe Potter had caught on to his crush, but then he remembered that Harry could be completely oblivious when these things concerned himself. It annoyed Draco to the point of going to Hermione’s office to ask about it.
Hermione Granger had, somehow, become his friend. He spent much time in her office with Harry as they consulted with her on many of their cases and eventually they went from mutual respect to an easy friendship. When he went to her office today, he casually asked her if something was wrong with Harry. She stared at Draco for a long while with that measuring look she liked to give him before answering that “No, there is nothing particularly wrong with Harry.” Draco did not care for that measuring look. The woman already saw too much and he suspected that she was on to him, however she said nothing else and they had a nice chat till her husband came in and disrupted them. And now...now, he was on his way to have drinks with his partner’s best friend. Draco sighed. Harry made everything complicated.
Draco tossed on his cold weather wear and headed for Riley’s Pub down the street for his first outing with Ron Weasley, for there would be many in fact. That first night, Draco and the ginger fell into a drinking pattern similar to school boys trying to prove who could drink the most. They both got piss drunk, something Draco would never have done if not for the surprisingly amusing company of Weasley, who turned out to be quite fun. They insulted each other, laughed, cheered, and eventually stumbled on home. His suspicions had a hard time of sticking and he eventually had to assume that Ron Weasley really did just want them to get along well because Harry and he were such “great partners,” so said the drunk auror.
During the rest of November, Draco found himself having drinks with Ron every few days, and calling him Ron. Harry was apparently confused by his best friend’s motive as well and gave Weasley many curious looks at his new friendliness towards Draco, but that was all. Since Harry was still playing the stay-away-from-Draco game, Draco found himself latching on to the nearness of Harry by being close with Harry’s friends. It sounded sad, even to himself, but he couldn’t help it. The man was becoming more and more skittish and it was infuriating. Potter refused to be alone with Draco and if it happened he excused himself politely.
It was midway through December when Ron and Draco decided to have some holiday shots at Riley’s after work. They were on their fourth round when Draco overtook Ron completely with an extra four hot-apple-pie shots in order to drown out the depression that Potter was causing him. He was feeling blissfully drunk and they were in a heated discussion about how stupid Secret Santa was for some reason.
“I,” Draco began loudly, “already took care of my draw’s gift. I bet you’ve been slacking!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Ron who laughed so much he doubled over. Draco frowned. “What’s so funny, Red?” Ron’s could barely breath.
“I wish someone could know just how hard I’m working on it. It’s ridiculous, I tell you!” the red headed auror waved his hand and the waitress brought him another beer. Draco was about to comment when who should walk in but Harry bloody Potter. Ron waved his friend over, who seemed surprised to see the two of them there, though it should have been a common occurrence by now.
“Ron, Draco,” Potter greeted them both with a bemused smile. “Having a little pre-holiday-party party?” Ron raised his glass.
“To Harry! For stating the obvious!” Ron yelled and clinked his glass with Draco’s. They cheered and drank healthily. Harry shook his head with a laugh, and Draco couldn’t help but stare with interest at the sight of Harry with snow melting in his hair and cheeks pink with cold: he looked positively delectable. Harry met his eyes for moment and then his smile wavered.
“Well, I’ve just got to go and, um, I just came in to get out of the cold for a bit. I’ll see you on Monday, Draco,” Harry said in a rush and he barely looked at Ron as he headed for the door. When the door closed, Draco dropped his head onto the table with a thud.
“What’s wrong, Draco?” Ron asked, sounding completely content and not the least bit concerned. Draco suddenly became extremely angry.
“Your best friend is what’s wrong!” he hissed, still staring at the table grain because he couldn’t be arsed to lift his head. “He’s driving me insane.” Ron’s mug hit the table loudly, causing Draco to sit up in annoyance.
“Ow,” he said, rubbing his ears as if that would help with the shock of the noise. Ron didn’t apologize, but Draco saw real worry in the other auror’s face now.
“What do you mean insane? You don’t hate him again do you?” Draco rolled his eyes and waved his hand for a beer.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” was Draco’s immediate answer. I love him, you idiot. Ron’s expression eased as if he were relieved.
“Oh okay, good then. So what’s the problem?” Draco ignored the question and they got back onto the topic of Secret Santa. They laughed and traded comments on what they would get for whom. Draco was definitely beyond his usual drunk and they left the bar propped up against each other for support, though it was probably more that Draco needed the support because walking had suddenly become a terribly impossible and dangerous task. They made their way unsteadily down the sidewalk toward Draco’s flat.
“Harry got the ssssecretary, Ssssarah. He has no clue what he’s ssssupposed to get her for Sssssecret Sssssanta,” Ron said, emphasizing the “S” in all the words for some reason. Draco felt jealousy roar in his chest.
“Stupid whore,” Draco said under his breath. “I see her making eyes...at MY partner.” Ron laughed, almost dropping Draco. “Watch it, Weasley!”
“You sound jealous, Malfoy.” Draco scoffed, though the movement made him dizzy.
“Shut up.” There was more laughter from Ron.
“Well, if Haaaarry had YOU for Secret Santa,” Ron began in a sing-song voice, “What would the best gift he could give yooou?” This was around the time when Draco started to drop out of the conversation. His mind wasn’t on the same page with his mouth.
“He could gift-wrap himself and sit under my tree,” Draco heard himself say before he could stop himself. He didn’t have long to be mortified however because he passed out there on the sidewalk.
------
Ron stared down at his drunken friend in shock. One minute they were hobbling along and the next Draco was dead weight; Ron was unprepared and had to set Draco down on the sidewalk gently or both of them would have toppled down onto the icy pavement. That wasn’t the shocking bit however, it was the comment before that. “He could gift-wrap himself and sit under my tree,” the Slytherin had said. Granted, it was a drunken confession, but all signs had been pointing in that direction.
At first, Ron simply wanted Harry to know that he was fine with Draco, which was the purpose of all the happy hour jaunts. Then, he decided that maybe he could find out for Harry if Draco was into him. This proved rather difficult because he couldn’t just ask a bloke if that bloke liked his best mate.
Ron cast a clumsy heating charm that warmed half of the sidewalk. Whoops, overkill. He watched as snow melted a good meter around Malfoy on all sides. Ron wasn’t sure who to feel more sorry for--Harry or Draco. Harry seemed at a loss of how to proceed with his crush, and having a crush on Draco Malfoy in the first place? Ron shook his head. And Malfoy. The way Harry was acting recently was driving Ron insane, so he could only imagine how Draco must be feeling as Harry decided that avoidance was the best course of action. Honestly, tonight was the first time Draco had let himself get drunk enough to show his frustration, jealousy, and preference. Ron had been looking for it for the past few weeks, but now he knew for certain. Ron smiled-even Hermione had said all she had was speculation. He took some deep breaths to get his buzzed mind settled.
“Okay,” said Ron out loud to no one. “I think I have my Secret Santa gift figured out.”
---------
It was the day of the office Christmas party and Harry was miserable. He had done his Secret Santa shopping and settled on a bottle of perfume that Hermione had suggested for the secretary, but he was hardly in the holiday spirit. His current endeavor to not be in Draco’s company for too long was proving a strenuous goal. If he didn’t leave the room or make an excuse, Harry could feel himself blushing and giggling like an idiot within minutes of Draco’s company. All he, the great Harry Potter, could think to do in that situation was run. It was grating, really: the defeater of Voldemort scared because he has fallen for his auror partner who used to hate him.
Harry sighed. The chances of Draco feeling the same were miniscule if his recent behavior was anything to go by. His handsome partner started to become more and more irritated as the holidays drew near and a lot of the feeling seemed to be directed toward Harry. After running into Ron and Draco at the pub last week, Ron said that Malfoy was avoiding him and claimed it was because Ron had seen the Slytherin completely wasted.
“Don’t worry about him,” Ron had said with a mysterious grin, “He’s just embarrassed.”
Harry pocketed his Secret Santa gift and showed up at the ministry ballroom without a date. Even in his current state of holiday gloom, he was able to appreciate the beauty of the Christmas party. Snow fell from the night sky ceiling and vanished just before it reached the tops of peoples’ heads, all the tables were decorated with Christmas bulbs that danced to the music played by the hired band, and soft icicle lights made the room glow a warm gold and red hue.
“Harry!” Hermione came toward him with a sly grin on her face. They hugged as if they hadn’t seen each other in years.
“Hermione, you look great,” he said, smiling. Her hair was done up in a lovely bun and she was wearing a rather sexy dark red dress that probably had Ron wondering when the couple could go home.
“Thank you,” she giggled and looked behind him. “I think Ron would like to have a word with you.” He turned to see his friend coming toward him with a strange look on his face.
“You alright?” Harry asked with concern.
“Hey!” Ron said with unusual gaiety. “Can you come with me…somewhere…for a second?” Harry was perplexed, but followed Ron anyway out of the ballroom.
“Where are we going?” He asked. His friend seemed rather pleased with himself and anxious at the same time. “I only just got here.”
“Oh nowhere, nowhere. Just wanted to show you something really amazing in the office.” Harry shrugged and followed obediently; going upstairs was loads better than watching Draco Malfoy in the magical Christmas-y splendor and wishing for something he couldn’t have. As they entered the lift, his mind was still fixed on Draco, as always: the grace in his movements, the line of his jaw, the wit he carried, and the courage he had. He really needed to do something about how he felt. This constant depression was insane, and he had also been feeling ashamed for his behavior; he was being a complete arse and he knew it. He straightened and decided that tonight he should tell Draco how he felt. His mind had just reached this conclusion when Ron ushered him into a back room on the law enforcement floor. The room had remarkably high ceilings, one of the tallest Christmas trees he had ever seen, and twinkling lights that looked like stars draped overhead, dramatically falling and moving. The soft sound of an orchestra playing Christmas music sounded all over the room, though they were the only ones there. As they entered a fireplace came out of the wall to the right and a shaggy white carpet unrolled in front of it.
“This is amazing, Ron,” Harry said in wonder as he looked about the room. “Did you set this up here?”
“Sorry, Harry,” he heard quietly behind him before he felt himself falling to the ground. Ron sent a charm to cushion the fall. “You’ll thank me tomorrow…I hope,” were the last fading words Harry heard before he fell into sleep, too quickly to even ask Ron what the fuck was going on.
When Harry awoke his auror senses told him he was safe for the moment, but restrained. He opened his eyes slowly and realized he was still in the room Ron had taken him to. Ron. What in bloody hell is going on? he thought angrily. Ron is seriously going to pay if this is some prank. Harry couldn’t find his wand so he settled for struggling in his bonds like a muggle. He realized, to his horror, that he was wrapped like a Christmas tree present, complete with a red bow around his neck and a Santa hat atop his head. Ron probably wanted to embarrass him and have a group from the department walk in and see him like this. What a prat! Harry tried in vain to get out of his ribbon restraints but it was no use. Finally he sat and waited for the conclusion of Ron’s prank so he could go home and plot revenge. He was in the middle of plotting something particularly vicious when he heard footsteps down the hall and heard that person approach the door to his prison.
“A little help,” Harry called, hoping it was someone who wouldn’t photograph him and spread it all over the Daily Prophet. The person who then entered the room made Harry’s heart leap out of his chest. It was Draco.
------
Draco eyed the crowd for Harry, but the Gryffindor was nowhere to be seen, so he snagged a champagne glass from a waiter walking by instead. He wondered if Harry had changed his mind about coming to the party...not that he had dressed especially nice tonight. He glanced down at his newly bought dress robes and frowned, annoyed at himself. Yes, I did.
“Malfoy!” Draco heard Ron call him but didn’t turn to acknowledge the man. He was still too embarrassed by what did or did not happen the week before. The night of the holiday shots was still a bit blurry, but he felt like he may have divulged too much information. Ron caught up to him. “Hey, nice to see you too,” Ron said sarcastically. Draco sipped his champagne and donned a face of incomprehension.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“Bollocks,” Ron said with a laugh. Draco glared and finished his drink wondering when he had lost the ability to annoy the ginger.
“Well, what is it, Weasley?” Ron looked shifty all of a sudden.
“I saw Harry head up to the department for some reason, could you go get him?” Draco looked at Ron like he had grown two extra heads.
“You want me to go fetch Harry for you?” Ron shook his head innocently.
“I can’t leave, the first song is going to start soon and Hermione wants to dance.” Draco considered his options and found that he had no reason not to do it other than the fact that he didn’t want to, which would have been a fine reason before he’d become friends with Weasley.
“Fine,” he said, sounding anything but pleased to help. “I knew having drinks with you that first time was a bad idea.” He left the ballroom, receiving an unsettling grin from Ron and wink from Hermione on his way. Gryffindors are insane, he concluded wryly.
He rode the lift deep in thought. Crazy ideas of telling Potter how he felt flew in and out of his mind teasing him with the good and bad possibilities of what could happen. It might be the perfect time with the holiday cheer and the beautiful decorations all over, or it could be that there would never be a good time and his crush would fade as most things in his life did. The only thing that never seemed to change in his life was the presence of Harry--as a rival, as an enemy, as an annoyance, as a savior, and now as a colleague and friend. The Gryffindor was always there nagging at him and now, perhaps, he had figured out why. Draco shook himself and made a final decision: if there was some clear-cut sign, he would come clean to Potter. It has to be very clear though...I mean, this sign has to hit me in the face.
He was just about to open Harry’s office when he noticed that light was showing at the bottom of a door at the very end of the hallway. Curious, he made his way down the rest of the hallway and heard light, instrumental, Christmas music sounding from within the room.
“A little help,” he heard a familiar voice call from inside. Draco’s body tensed. Harry? He pushed the door open slowly and peered inside. Draco’s mouth dropped open in a very un-Malfoy like way at several things that came into view: the gigantic Christmas tree, the lights, the furry rug on the floor, the fireplace right across from it. First and foremost, however, was Harry, seated in a chair by the base of the tree with his body bound to a velvety recliner with red and gold Christmas ribbons. The man had a Santa hat on and a fucking red bow tied around his neck, looking like the best Christmas gift Draco had ever seen. Okay, that might be a sign, Draco thought vaguely.
They both stared at each other for a long while.
“What is this?” Draco said finally, his throat dry. Harry broke out of his trance as well, blushing profusely.
“I...Ron knocked me out and put me here,” Harry said quietly. Draco considered what was before him and nodded that he definitely had divulged too much information last week. He shook his head at his own stupidity and moved around the chair to work at undoing Harry’s ties. A Christmas present from my Secret Santa, huh? A nice thought.
“Sorry, Harry,” Draco said softly, remembering his recent vow. “This was my fault.” Harry stiffened in his chair.
“What?” The Chosen One gaped at him in confusion.
“I was drunk last week when you saw us at the pub and I told Ron something personal.” Draco tugged at the ribbon knots with a spell but they wouldn’t budge so he set about doing it the muggle way to keep his hands busy. He took a deep breath, “I believe Ron has me for Secret Santa, yes?” There was an awkward silence, till finally he heard Harry’s sharp intake of breath signaling that he had put the pieces together. Draco’s face grew warm even though Harry couldn’t see him. And just like that, he knows.
“So I’m...Ron, he...because you...” Despite his own nervousness, Draco smiled at Harry’s bewilderment. “You’re joking,” the Gryffindor said at least. Draco stopped what he was doing and made his way to the other side of the chair to face Harry, kneeling down so that Harry could see his face.
“Are you seriously that oblivious?” he asked, watching with amusement Harry’s expression, which was somewhat annoyed now. As he searched the Chosen One’s face he thought he saw hurt flit across the angry look he was all too familiar with-a sudden thought struck him. “Are you upset because I fancy you or are you upset because you think I’m joking?” All amusement and teasing was gone from Draco’s voice. He rested both hands on the arms of the chair, gripping tightly to hide the slight trembling of his fingers. Potter seemed dumbfounded by the question and his expression told Draco that the Gryffindor was having some sort of inner battle about what to say next. Potter was unsure of what to make of it all--that was obvious--but Draco was more interested in the fact that his crush was also tied to a chair without his wand in reach. Now or never, Draco thought recklessly.
He met Harry’s guarded green eyes and, assuming he might not have another chance, Draco leaned forward and kissed him.
----
Harry had been truly shocked by the Slytherin’s insinuation about Ron making himself a present for Draco, and doubted that such a thing could be possible. Surely Ron had no idea about his preference for his partner, and in that case Ron would never simply offer Harry up like a side of beef as a Christmas present. The logical conclusion was that this was all a gag and the thought made him angry. But then, Draco had kissed him and every doubt flit out of thought with the simple contact. His skin grew warm and he automatically leaned forward, trying to apply his own pressure to the kiss. Draco reacted with some surprise, but then Harry felt strong hands grab his neck and their mouths opened readily for an onslaught of tongues and teeth. Something burst in his chest and all the weeks of running from his feelings for Draco seemed like utter waste. They kissed each other as if there was no time left in the world until, finally, his partner pulled back for air.
Draco’s lips were reddened, his perfectly styled hair fell over his left eye, and Harry instinctively tried to reach his arm forward to tuck the blond hair back. He struggled against the knots once more.
“Get me out of these ribbons.” His voice sounded huskier than normal, but Draco sat back, as if he couldn’t believe what happened. Harry kicked himself for not noticing any of Draco’s preference for him sooner-he certainly believed that the Slytherin was not joking now.
“You were avoiding me…” Draco said frowning with an accusatory tint. Harry knew that now Draco was the one unsure of what was going on.
“I didn’t want you to know that I had a crush on you,” Harry said bluntly, feeling his old Gryffindor self coming back as if rejuvenated by the kiss. “I was sure it was obvious and that you couldn’t feel the same way.” Draco snapped out of his thoughts and smirked haughtily, his characteristic, Slytherin self coming back as well.
“That’ll teach you to think, Potter.” Before Harry could retort, Draco launched forward and latched onto Harry’s mouth again. He straddled the chair this time and Harry felt his body react invitingly to the attention of the man he’d been dreaming about for weeks. His mind could barely process anything as Draco devoured him thoroughly and then, suddenly, he gasped as Draco’s hand had slipped down and caressed him through his trousers. His eyes shot open and Draco had the most wicked and sexy smile he had ever seen on anyone. Holy fuck, he thought in awe. I’m doomed. Draco made the movement again and Harry instinctively tried to move against the Slytherin’s hand. The man made a tisking noise and leaned forward to nibble on the line between Harry’s throat and jaw. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this to you,” the blond said in a low, tantalizing voice while moving his hand over and over again.
Harry would have stopped the man if he could have because he was getting terribly close to the breaking point without ever even touching Draco. The thought jolted him and he swallowed several times to try and get his dry throat working again enough to talk.
“Draco, untie me,” he said hoarsely. Draco leaned back, his eyes dark and mischievous.
“Not having fun the way you are?” Draco teased. Harry chuckled and took some deep breaths.
“I need to be able to touch you,” he responded after a moment. The Slytherin’s eyes darkened even more, if possible, and he levered himself off of Harry’s lap and moved around to get the damned ties off. Draco made quick work of it this time and Harry felt the ribbon loosen. He started to rise but felt a firm hand on his shoulder.
“How about you stay right there?” Draco said close to his ear, causing tingling sensations down Harry’s spine. Harry decided that Draco had very, VERY, good ideas when the blond knelt in front of him again and eyed the button on his trousers. His heart pounded as he watched the Slytherin’s pale skin glow warm with the light from the fireplace.
------
Draco had to hand it to Ron Weasley. This was shaping up to be the best Christmas he could ever remember having. He would have thought more about congratulating Weasley for his audacity, but all thoughts were on Harry now. He could hardly believe it: he fancied Harry and Harry fancied him. Who would’ve thought? The plan was to kiss Potter before he was free and able to hex him senseless, as he knew the talented Gryffindor was very capable of doing just that. But then the man had kissed him back and all hell broke loose. Whatever he was feeling, Harry seemed to be matching him because the Gryffindor kissed as if he had been waiting to for ages. Stupid Gryffindor should have just told me, Draco chided, and then remembered that he had never said anything as well.
He had begun to explore Harry more interestingly, when the Savior asked to be untied. To be honest, Draco kind of enjoyed the bondage kink, but at this point he’d probably do whatever Harry wanted, especially when the man said what he wanted in that particular tone of voice. Draco had never heard from him speak like that before: “I need to be able to touch you.” Fuck. He practically jumped over the chair to get the ribbons undone. When they were off, Harry began to stand up, but Draco thought that his current position had promise.
Harry watched him with dark green eyes and a smile that made Draco’s pulse quicken. Good god. Just a look and I’m ready to take a cold shower. He eyed the area of Harry’s trousers that most interested him and noticed as he reached for the buttons that the Savior was biting his lip unconsciously-a rather enticing picture. When he finally reached in and grasped Harry’s considerable cock from within the man’s pants, a moan escaped the Gryffindor that jolted Draco’s own erection, and now he was the one biting his lip. Harry’s gaze stayed locked with Draco’s as he pulled lightly over the heated flesh, though the Chosen One’s breaths grew shorter with each stroke and addition of pressure. The sight was incredible and heady to have Harry Potter before him and undone. Harry’s eyes were closed now and Draco grinned wickedly. He let go of the lovely cock abruptly. When Harry opened his eyes, filled with a lusty haze, Draco leaned forward and took all of the man into his mouth.
Harry choked and grabbed onto Draco’s hair like a lifeline. It hurt, but Draco ignored pain in his scalp. He moved up and down quickly, matching the speed his hands had reached and sucking on the head gently. Draco had both hands on Harry’s hips to keep him from moving too much, but it didn’t take long before it was getting hard to control his lean and fit partner.
“Draco,” Harry said breathily, the sound of his name spurred Draco on faster. Then, Harry came, his beautiful body taught for one moment and then shuddering the next as he emptied down Draco’s throat. Draco swallowed every drop, and raised himself up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand with a smile who knew bordered on arrogant. Harry was quite fetching with his face flushed and warm, and his clothes a rumpled mess. He tried to get up, but Harry’s hands were still tangled in his hair and the man was looking at Draco as if he were the most incredible person alive.
Draco suddenly felt shy.
------
Harry wondered if he had ever had such a magnificent blow job before and decided, after a moment or two of catching his breath, that he had not. Draco had a self-satisfied look on his face when he wiped his mouth-a well-earned self-satisfied look. He stared at the blond openly, not trying to hide any of the affection he had been trying to keep to himself before. To his surprise, Draco’s cheeks darkened adorably. He untangled his hands from the blond hair gently and pulled Draco up for a lingering kiss that turned into a heated one quickly. In a matter of minutes, Draco was on his lap once more with both hands holding the sides of his face gently. Some fearsome Slytherin this one is, Harry thought with a smile.
He stroked the inside of Draco’s mouth with his tongue as if all the candy in the world were there, and noticed with pleasure that Draco had a very sensitive mouth. He bit at Draco’s lip playfully and reached down with both hands to grip the hardness of Draco’s throbbing erection. Draco growled and pushed forward, pushing their lips together again. This time, however, he may have pushed too hard because the chair toppled backward.
The fall happened so quickly that Harry didn’t even pull his hands out of Draco’s trousers, where they were happily and inappropriately placed. The chair collided with the base branches of the giant Christmas tree and Christmas bulbs dropped and shattered around them in a flurry of colors. They hit the ground with a yelp and looked at each other with bleary bemusement, their faces inches from one another.
“Happy Christmas, Draco,” Harry said with a chuckle, though that alone was hard in their current state. Draco rolled his eyes, but leaned down to kiss him again-Harry assumed this was Draco’s way of shutting him up. It was going to be a very merry Christmas indeed.
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“Do you think things are going well, Hermione?” Ron was swaying Hermione slowly to the music on the crowded dance floor. The party was in full swing now and it was hard not to bump into anyone, so Ron and Hermione settled for one small piece of the floor where he could barely turn her around in place. He was nervous; it had been an hour with no word from either of his friends. “If things didn’t work out and they’re angry with me, you’ll protect me won’t you?” Hermione laughed.
“Don’t be silly. I think your plan was sweet for the both of them…even if it is meddling.”
“Maybe I should check on them?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.
“But what if things are going…well?” Hermione asked with a smirk. Ron shut his eyes warding off the mental images trying to break through his imagination.
“Oh, don’t say that,” he said with a groan. Of course, he wanted things to go well between Harry and Draco, but he didn’t need to think about specific mechanics of it all. Still, he was curious if his handiwork was received well or not. Neville interrupted them and Ron left Hermione to dance with their old friend while he hurried up to the law enforcement floor. He tapped his foot impatiently in the elevator and practically jogged down the hallway toward the back room. When he reached the door, his hand stopped at the door knob. Perhaps it would be best not to open and just listen and make sure it was still occupied. It was hard to tell with the Christmas music still on in there, but then he heard a distinct scuffling. Relieved, Ron turned to go and leave the two alone until he heard furniture crashing and someone yell in pain. Fear took him for a moment and he turned back and walked into the room to help whoever needed helping. He realized, he should have waited a moment longer before jumping to conclusions and barging in.
The commotion had been because the two had been entangled on top of the recliner and the chair had fallen backward, breaking the chair and sending hundreds of Christmas ornaments crashing to the floor as they knocked the giant tree. Luckily, the two aurors were still clothed, even though it appeared they wouldn’t have remained so for long. Harry and Draco stared at him in mild surprise, and Ron could see they were fairly dazed and disheveled. He tried not to notice that only one hand was visible and it was Draco’s as he braced himself against the floor; Harry’s hands were lord knows where. Embarrassment flashed through Ron for a split-second before he realized his plan had been a success. To the obvious shock of Harry and Draco, Ron grinned slyly.
“Hah! It worked. Totally nailed it.” He laughed and headed out of the room. “Happy Christmas from your Secret Santa, Malfoy!”
As the door closed behind him, he heard Malfoy reply back, “Happy Christmas from your Secret Santa as well, Weasley.” Eh? Ron glanced back at the closed door. Malfoy’s my Secret Santa? He sped back down to the ballroom and went to the side of the room filled with gifts. An old man stood there blocking the table, dressed as a rather old elf.
“Name please,” the old man croaked, raising his wand.
“Ron Weasley.” The man turned around and cast a spell. One small package floated up out from the stack and floated on over to Ron.
“Happy Christmas, sir.” Ron smiled back and headed to Hermione, who was sitting at a table with Neville and Luna.
“Got your gift already?” Hermione asked with a bit of reproof. “We don’t usually do that till the end of the party.” Ron sat down with the gift in front of him.
“Malfoy told me he was my Secret Santa,” Ron said eagerly, beginning to rip the package open. “I want to see if the gift he gave me is as good as the one I gave him.” The wrapping paper fell away to reveal a bright red box with no markings. The other three at the table watched as Ron lifted the top carefully to reveal a box filled with white tissue paper and something red lying on top. “What’s this?” He lifted the red thing up carefully and held it against his body to get a good look at it. There was an awkward silence until he finally asked, “Lingerie?”
Indeed it was. The skimpy material was bare and lacey red. “For me?” he asked in confusion. The others at the table laughed, and Hermione’s face was dark red.
“I believe that’s for me, love,” she said in an exasperated whisper. Ron’s mouth formed a perfect “O” and he gazed at the garment with a bit more appreciation.
“Dammit,” Ron said, surprising Hermione.
“Excuse me?” Hermione said, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Ron grinned wide.
“Malfoy beat me after all.”