HAPPY H/D HOLIDAYS, CUTECOATI!
Author: arineat
Recipient: cutecoati
Title: A Very Malfoy Christmas
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: Harry spends Christmas with our favourite snakes.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Slytherin shenanigans, drunken Lucius, inadviasble Christmas Carols and more crack than was originally intended.
Epilogue compliant? No
Word Count: 4300+
Author's Notes: This is the fourth draft of my Hols gift. I struggled quite a bit to get my muse to cooperate and I did my best to keep my giftee's requests in mind. Many thanks to D, P and T for your support and brainstorming sessions. You are all wonderful and I LOVE YOU! Dear cutecoati, I don't know if it's exactly what you envisioned when you sent your second round of ideas, but I hope you like it all the same.
“Draco, do I have to?”
Draco arched a brow at Harry's childish whine as he straightened his tie.
“Yes, you most certainly do have to,” he answered without the slightest hint of sympathy.
“But they hate me,” Harry said and pouted.
“They do no hate you. For god's sake, Harry, don't be so dramatic.”
“If looks could kill, your father would have reduced me to a pile of ash a thousand times over.”
“Oh, tosh. Daddy's just a little protective of me, that's all.”
“He threatened to tie me up in the dungeon with a dozen hungry nundu if I dared to make you even the slightest bit unhappy,” Harry reminded him wryly.
“What's your point?”
“My point is that tonight is going to be a disaster! Friday night dinners are bad enough, but spending Christmas Eve with them? Holidays tend to bring out the worst in even the most docile of families; I'm terrified to think how it will affect yours.”
“Need I remind you that I suffered through Christmas at the Weasleys' last year for you? Nothing could be as bad as that fiasco.”
Harry tugged at his unruly hair, trying to make it lie flat as he fought the urge to blush. “George apologised for that.”
“He bloody well attacked me!”
“It wasn't his fault! He was unimaginably drunk and you do rather resemble Lucy from behind,” Harry defended, snickering at the memory. At the time, he hadn't found it quite so funny.
Draco let out an indignant squeak. “I most certainly do not!”
“It was the hair. There aren't that many platinum blonds about, you know.”
“And then there was that ridiculous fucking jumper you forced me to wear!”
“Hey, Molly worked hard on that jumper. Besides, I think it looked rather sexy on you. In fact, you should wear it tonight,” he suggested, his eyes lighting up at the mental image of Lucius Malfoy's face should Draco dare to show up in a Weasley jumper.
“Not a chance in hell, Potter,” Draco said with a snort.
“Ah, come on! If I have to endure a full night with your father, it's the least you can do.”
“Nice try,” he drawled, batting Harry's hands away from his hair and taking over. In mere moments he'd tamed Harry's unruly tufts into submission.
“How do you do that?” Harry asked in awe.
“What can I say? I'm a very talented man,” Draco replied with a haughty smirk.
Harry's expression turned impish as he wrapped his arms around Draco's waist and pulled him close. “Yeah? Perhaps you should remind me just how talented you can be.”
“I'd love to,” he replied and for a second, Harry thought his ruse had worked. Then Draco smiled sweetly, patted his cheek and stepped away. “After we get back from the Manor.”
Harry's shoulders slumped as he realised his protests were futile. There was no getting out of this; and really, it wasn't fair to Draco to protest too much. Despite their cold and detached public image, the Malfoys were quite a close-knit family and Draco loved his parents deeply. Spending Christmas with them would make him happy and that, Harry reasoned, was the most important thing. He would just have to plaster a smile on his face, keep calm and carry on no matter what scathing remarks Draco's father made.
As if he'd read Harry's thoughts, Draco's smile softened. He stepped close and drew Harry into a lingering kiss. “It's going to be fine. I promise. Who knows, you might even enjoy yourself.”
Harry arched a brow, but held his tongue.
“And even if you don't, I'll make it up to you when we get home,” Draco promised, his expression melting into a look that had heat coiling in Harry's groin.
Before the sensation had even taken hold, Draco pulled back and strode toward the Floo, all business once again.
“All right, hop to, Potter. You know how Father feels about punctuality.”
With a heavy sigh, Harry steeled himself and followed Draco into the fire.
***
“You're late, Potter.”
Harry clenched his jaw as he stepped out of the fireplace and into the parlour of Malfoy Manor under the sneering gaze of Lucius Malfoy. He was less than a minute later than Draco and yet the portrait of him that Lucius had grudgingly added to the family clock was pointing at 'late'. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Harry stepped forward and offered his hand.
“Nice to see you, too, Lucius,” he greeted with a forced smile.
Lucius arched a brow and ignored Harry's proffered hand. “In the future you would do well to remember that when one is invited to a gathering at a certain time, one ought to at least make an effort to arrive at the appropriate time. Or perhaps you believe yourself above such social niceties?”
“Oh, Lucius, do give the boy a break. After all, it is Christmas,” Narcissa chided as she swept into the room, her lips pulled into a welcoming smile. She pulled Draco in for a hug and kissed both of his cheeks, murmuring her usual endearments in French, before turning to Harry and kissing him as well. “Happy Christmas, Harry.”
“Happy Christmas, Narcissa,” Harry replied, fighting the urge to scuff his toe and blush at her open affection.
After her initial shock and disbelief at first hearing he and Draco were in love, Narcissa had been surprisingly open to their relationship. Draco and his happiness always came first, she'd said, and if being with Harry Potter was what had him smiling again, she was more than happy to welcome him into the family. Narcissa had been true to her word and always greeted Harry with a genuine smile. She'd also been a godsend where Lucius was concerned, keeping him in line often with a single arched brow.
“You look lovely,” Harry said, taking in her scarlet embroidered robes. They were made of a rich velvet and looked surprisingly festive. She'd even managed to get Lucius to dress in a matching waistcoat and tie.
“Potter, kindly stop ogling my wife. Is it not enough that you've corrupted my son?” Lucius said with a glare as he pulled Narcissa to his side.
“Yeah, Potter, are you some sort of deviant?”
Harry's spine stiffened as Pansy Parkinson slinked into the room with Blaise Zabini close behind. The night had just got infinitely more excruciating. He turned and sent Draco a withering glare. Draco blinked innocently.
“I'm sorry, love, didn't I mention Pansy and Blaise were coming?”
“It must have slipped your mind,” Harry bit out between clenched teeth. Pansy never failed to torment Harry; always there with a sneer and the inevitable reminder that she had had Draco first. Logically, Harry knew he shouldn't be bothered by her needling; after all, she may have had him first, but Harry had him now and he wasn't about to let him go. Still, something about the way she acted around him never failed to raise his hackles.
“Well, Potter, aren't you going to say hello?” Pansy asked with an overly-sweet smile. “You're being rude.”
“Hello, Pansy,” Harry ground out. He tried to smile, but had a feeling it looked more like a pained grimace than anything else. “Blaise, how are you?”
Blaise smirked and gave Harry his customary once-over glance that never failed to make him feel like he was naked. Harry shifted uncomfortably and wished desperately for a drink.
“He's my date, Potter, so he's doing very well,” Pansy answered with a smirk. Blaise sent Harry a lascivious wink and Harry pressed closer to Draco's side, wishing fiercely to be anywhere but there.
“Harry, dear, would you like a drink?” Narcissa offered.
“Dear Merlin, yes,” Harry answered, blushing at his slight outburst and Narcissa's arched brow. He cleared his throat. “I mean, yes, please. That would be lovely.”
The second the house-elf popped in with his eggnog, Harry gulped it down, ignoring Draco's disapproving look, and asked for another. Normally he couldn't abide eggnog, but it had alcohol in it and so was more than acceptable. He had a feeling he'd need quite a few to get through the night.
***
Dinner was an awkward affair at best with Lucius' glare, Blaise's heated looks and Pansy's incessant snarking and belittling, but Harry got through it with his copious alcohol consumption. By the third course, Harry was warm and Lucius' glare seemed almost pleasant. By the fifth, his cheeks were flushed and Pansy's sarcasm was positively charming. Blaise was, unfortunately, still creeping Harry out, but at least with the alcohol it was easier to ignore.
“You all right, there, Potter?” Pansy asked with a smirk, “You're looking a bit...happy.”
“I'm brilliant,” Harry said with a wide smile.
“You're drunk.” Draco frowned, pursing his lips in disapproval. Harry didn't like it when Draco frowned.
“No, I'm not, love, honest. Just a little tipsy,” Harry protested earnestly before turning to Narcissa. “Brilliant eggnog, 'Cissa, really. Top notch. Just like you.”
“Oh, for Salazar's sake,” Lucius scoffed.
“Thank you, Harry,” Narcissa said, amusement shining in her eyes. “Now, shall we retire to the sitting room?”
With that, everyone gathered their after-dinner drinks and rose from the table. Harry stood and followed them out, only weaving the slightest bit. His jaw dropped as he entered the regal sitting room. The entire room sparkled with silver, red and green decorations. Icicles were charmed to hang from the fireplace and glittered like diamonds. Enchanted snow fell from the ceiling and was that a pair of miniature penguins ice skating on a tiny pond?
The centrepiece of the whole affair was a giant twelve-foot Christmas tree and an obscene mountain of gifts beneath it. What had to be thousands of fairy lights lit the boughs of the tree, twinkling merrily and lending unbelievable warmth and cheer to the room. For the first time since he'd first set foot the Manor, it felt like a proper home.
“Wow,” Harry breathed in awe, drunkenly transfixed by the glow of the tree.
“It's beautiful, isn't it?” Draco said softly as he pressed against Harry's side. Harry leaned into the warmth of his body, his heart suddenly light.
“Yeah. It really is.”
Draco dropped a kiss to his neck and Harry could feel the curve of his smile against his skin. “Come on.”
They moved to sit on a small, but cosy settee by the fire as a house-elf popped in to refresh everyone's drinks and offer a tray of light snacks. Harry was so wrapped up in how homey and comfortable it all was that he almost missed it when Narcissa began to speak again.
“Now, Harry,” she began, “it is tradition in the Malfoy home that on Christmas Eve, everyone open a single gift. The catch is, you may not choose which of your gifts you open. The giver will choose for you. As usual, we will begin with the head of the family.”
Harry watched as Narcissa handed Lucius a package. He unwrapped it with precise movements, without a hint of enthusiasm, and calmly extracted a gleaming pocket watch that was easily worth a thousand Galleons.
“It's lovely, my dear,” he said, pressing a kiss to Narcissa's cheek. “Thank you.”
As they continued down the line, Harry began to fidget. It seemed the alcohol he'd imbibed had finally started to get to him. He rose with a quickly muttered apology and hurried from the room in search of the nearest bathroom.
Harry had just finished tucking himself back into his trousers when the he heard the door open and close.
“I thought you said we couldn't shag at your parent's house,” he teased, thinking it was Draco.
“When did I ever say that?”
Harry's smile disappeared and his gaze snapped up to find Blaise leaning against the sink.
“What are you doing in here?”
Blaise smirked and swaggered forward, backing Harry up against the wall.
“I was just thinking it might be nice to get to know each other a little better. Draco was always so obsessed with you,” he mused. “I never understood why until now.”
Blaise reached out to trail a finger down Harry's cheek. Harry jerked back, his head swimming, the alcohol muddying his reflexes. He suddenly wished he hadn't had so much to drink.
“Don't,” he warned, trying to look menacing despite his fairly useless, inebriated state.
“Are you sure?” Blaise purred, pressing closer so that his lips hovered over Harry's. “Lucius has Draco distracted with his gift. We have time. Draco will never have to know.”
“I said 'no',” Harry bit out, readying himself for a fight, “and if you don't back off, I will hurt you, drunk or not.”
“Good answer,” Blaise breathed, pulling back with a smirk.
Harry blinked, utterly confused. A moment later, Pansy slid into the room and moved to stand in front of him with an appraising look.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
“Congratulations, Potter. You passed our little test,” Pansy answered.
“Test?” Harry echoed, the beginnings of real anger working to sober him a bit.
“Even drunk you didn't give in to Blaise and he's practically soaked in Eros' eau de cologne. You must really be in love with Draco.”
“Of course I'm really in love with him. You could have just asked if being together for over a year wasn't enough proof. Fuck, what is the matter with you?”
“We're Slytherins, Potter. Remember? We don't take anyone's word for anything, least of all yours.”
Before Harry could respond, Pansy drew her wand and hit him with a spell that had his vision clearing and his stomach protesting.
“Fuck's sake! A little warning next time?”
“Where's the fun in that?” she drawled. “Now that you're sober again, clean yourself up and come back inside. It's time for your gift.”
With that, she turned and sauntered from the room. Blaise paused just long enough to blow Harry a mocking kiss before following her out.
“Bloody Slytherins.”
***
Five minutes later, Harry returned to the sitting room.
“Everything all right?” Draco asked with a smile, though Harry could see a hint of concern in his gaze. It went a long way to easing the last of his spell-induced headache and he sent Draco a smile of his own.
“Everything's fine, love. Sorry I took so long.”
“I believe it's your turn to receive a gift, Harry,” Narcissa said as Harry reclaimed his seat next to Draco.
“Oh, you didn't have to get me anything.”
“They didn't,” Draco said looking suddenly nervous, “Well, they did, but I'm giving you your gift tonight.”
“Oh, all right,” Harry replied, wondering what Draco could possibly look nervous about. His eyes flicked to Pansy as she moved to lean against the mantle. Her knowing expression had Harry gulping before he turned back to Draco.
“Harry,” Draco cleared his throat and started again. “We've been together for a while now. It's been nearly a year and a half and it's been one of the happiest times of my life. Somehow, despite all the bad things that happened between us in our past, we've managed to come together and build a life together.”
Harry's mouth went dry and his heart skipped a beat as Draco pulled a small box from within his robes.
“I know we aren't perfect; our fights are epic and would scare most people away, but in truth, that's part of what makes life with you so wonderful. We're not perfect, but we're perfect together and I want to spend the rest of my life fighting with you.”
A grin spread across Harry's face at that and he watched with a mix of amusement and disbelief as Draco Malfoy - his Draco - slipped off the settee and onto one knee. Harry's grin slid off of his face as Draco opened the box to reveal the most beautiful platinum ring; a dragon entwined with a phoenix engraved in an intricate design along the band.
“Will you marry me, Harry?”
A strangled sound rose from Lucius' side of the room, but it barely registered past the sound of Harry's heart pounding in his ears. Harry's mind raced as a thousand answers raced through his mind and he struggled to find the best one, the most memorable. In the end, all he could manage was, “Yes.”
Draco's smile was breathtaking as he surged up and pulled Harry into a kiss. Narcissa's cheer of congratulations as well as Lucius' shocked, “Son of a bitch”, were lost as Draco's lips slid against Harry's.
“This calls for champagne,” Narcissa announced before calling a house-elf. Drinks were passed around and Harry couldn't hide his amusement as Lucius promptly downed his in one go and demanded an entire bottle of Ogden's.
Apparently it was Lucius' turn to drown his sorrows in alcohol.
***
Two hours and several drinks later, the house was filled with laughter and merriment. The occupants were spread about the room, laughing hysterically as Pansy did her best to silently communicate which famous witch or wizard she was trying to impersonate.
“Nicholas Flamel!”
“Gilderoy Lockhart!”
“Francie the Flatulent!”
Draco wrinkled his nose and shook his head at Harry. “Francie was a troll, Harry, not a Wizard.”
“Oh, right,” Harry said with a giggle. Draco soon joined him and in a matter of seconds the whole room had dissolved into laughter.
“Oh, for fuck's sake, I was Helga Hufflepuff!”
Pansy's revelation only had the laughter increasing ten-fold. Harry started when Lucius fell off the arm of the settee and against him.
“Helga Huff'puff, Potter!” he crowed, waving his mostly-empty bottle of Firewhisky.
Harry merely laughed harder and hoped he wasn't too inebriated to remember the sight of Lucius Malfoy falling down drunk and giggling like a mad schoolboy.
“You're all terrible at this game,” Pansy said and pouted as she swerved back to her seat. She missed and promptly landed in Blaise's lap, who accepted her happily.
“New one. Game. Need a,” Lucius said brokenly, frowning as if he couldn't quite make his mouth form the words he wanted to. “Carols!”
With that exclamation, Lucius leapt up from the settee, stumbled a bit before he got his footing and withdrew his wand. It took him three attempts, but he finally managed to cast a spell that had the familiar music of Deck the Hall playing in the air.
Deck the hall with shrunken elf heads
Fa la la la la la la la la
Take a Malfoy to your bed
Fa la la la la la la la la
Don shiny robes and pointy headwear
Fa la la la la la la la la
While the Muggles stop and stare
Fa la la la la la la la la
“Come on, everybody! Sing!”
As the rest of them began to sing, Harry found himself nearly in tears from laughing so hard. Though he knew the tune, the lyrics were so ridiculously different from the Muggle ones he'd grown up with.
“Come on, Potter! Sing!” Lucius demanded as he stumbled forward and yanked Harry out of his seat.
“I...don't know...the words,” Harry managed to say between his giggles.
Lucius' look was one of such disbelief, it had Harry snorting.
“How can you not know the words? Every wizard should know the words to 'Deck the Hall'!”
Apparently wizarding carols were of the utmost importance.
“I'll teach you,” Lucius said decisively as he lifted his wand. After a moment, he managed to cast a spell that had the lyrics forming in the air and Harry raised his voice along with the others as Lucius sent him a hearty look of approval.
“Th'ssa boy, Potter!”
They swayed, sang and giggled through three songs before Lucius stopped with a frown.
“Bugger, outta booze,” he muttered with a pout. “C'mon, Potter, le's get more.”
Lucius dragged Harry toward the door with his arm still around his neck. Suddenly, they stopped.
“Wha'th hell?” Lucius slurred as he made to move forward, only to be prevented by some unseen force.
“Oh, shit,” Draco said. Harry sent him a questioning look only to find that his fiancé was looking above his head. Slowly, as if in a horror film, Harry followed the direction of his head to find a horribly familiar-looking plant over them.
“Magical mistletoe!” Pansy cried, shrieking with laughter from Blaise's lap.
“What?!” Harry squealed, trying to pull away from the arm around his neck.
“Oh, bugger,” Lucius muttered.
“You have to kiss him,” Blaise piped up, sending Harry an evil smirk.
“Can't I just not and say I did?”
“I'm afraid not, Harry,” Narcissa said, looking as though she was desperately trying not to laugh. “The magic won't allow you to.”
“Oh, well, best get it over with. C'mere, Potter,” Lucius slurred.
Harry let out a little 'eep' of protest as Lucius' arm flexed and pulled him close for a snog. It lasted a bit longer than Harry thought was necessary, but, thankfully, Draco was there and pulling Harry back within a few minutes.
Lucius swayed at the sudden loss of support, but righted himself easily enough considering the amount of alcohol in his system. His cheeks were bright and rosy and he had a wide smile on his face as he swayed toward Harry. Lifting a hand, he patted Harry's cheek affectionately.
“Y'know, y're all right, Potter,” he proclaimed drowsily.
“All right,” Narcissa said as she glided over, somehow still graceful. “I think it's time for bed.”
“But I want to sing more carols,” Lucius protested with a pout so reminiscent of Draco's that Harry couldn't hold back a snicker.
“I know you do, pet. Tomorrow. We can sing more tomorrow.”
“'kay. G'night, Potter!”
“Night, Lucius,” Harry said with a little wave as he watched Narcissa lead him toward the stairs.
“We should probably turn in as well,” Pansy announced. Harry turned and caught her sending Blaise a steamy glance and promptly looked away. She may have more or less given him her blessing, but they were hardly friends and even if they were, the last thing Harry wanted to do was think of her and Blaise having sex.
“Yeah,” Draco agreed, sending Harry a look made him think that maybe Draco was possibly reconsidering his 'no sex at the Manor' rule.
“Night, then!” Harry threw the words over his shoulder and pulled Draco down the hall to their room.
In the end, the combination of alcohol and warmth worked against them. They barely got undressed before they were collapsing onto the thick mattress and falling asleep.
***
Christmas morning was filled with headaches, groaning and a lot of fuzzy memories, though the main highlights of the night were startlingly clear. Harry remembered the proposal, the singing and the kissing. Needless to say, all it had taken was one commiserating glance at Lucius and they'd made a silent agreement never to speak of it. It seemed that shared humiliation had served to bond them as Lucius was downright pleasant throughout breakfast.
After breakfast, they piled into the sitting room and opened presents. While it was markedly less wild and chaotic than a Weasley Christmas morning, the air of contentment and happiness that had filled Harry the night before remained. There was, however, a slight uproar when Draco found out about Blaise trying to kiss Harry the night before. Harry had watched in delighted amusement as his cool, calm and collected Slytherin had chased his best friend around the room, threatening to kill him while Blaise protested, insisting that he'd mistaken Harry for Pansy because of their dark hair. Draco had sneered, but eventually let it go. At least for the moment.
Harry got more gifts than he'd ever received in his life and not all of them were from Draco as he'd suspected they might be; quite a few had been from Narcissa and Lucius and he'd even got something from Pansy and Blaise. It was, surprisingly, one of the best Christmases Harry had ever had.
“You know, they aren't really that different from the Weasleys,” Harry said as they stepped out of the Floo and into their shared flat.
Draco sent him a horrified look. “Take that back, Potter!”
Harry just laughed as he moved to set his things on the sofa. “Well, at least your father doesn't hate me any more. Plus, you don't have to worry about me teasing you about George.”
“That reminds me, Pansy, Blaise and I need to have a proper 'conversation' about that.”
“They were just trying to protect you,” Harry said as he pulled Draco into his arms. “Besides, it turned out well in the end.”
Draco smiled warmly and leaned his forehead against Harry's. “Yeah. It really did. I'm so glad you said 'yes'.”
“As if I'd have said anything else.”
“Well, you never know. Now we just have to sort out what to do about Christmas next year. This year was such a hit, I'm sure Mother and Father will want us back.”
“Maybe next year we should get the Weasleys and the Malfoys together,” Harry suggested with a smile.
“Good luck with that,” Draco snorted. “The Weasleys and the Malfoys do not mix.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Harry pointed out with a glance to his engagement ring.
Draco's gaze followed Harry's and his smile widened.
“Fair enough. Let's ask them.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Harry grinned. “It'll be a Christmas to remember.”
END
Recipient: cutecoati
Title: A Very Malfoy Christmas
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: Harry spends Christmas with our favourite snakes.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Slytherin shenanigans, drunken Lucius, inadviasble Christmas Carols and more crack than was originally intended.
Epilogue compliant? No
Word Count: 4300+
Author's Notes: This is the fourth draft of my Hols gift. I struggled quite a bit to get my muse to cooperate and I did my best to keep my giftee's requests in mind. Many thanks to D, P and T for your support and brainstorming sessions. You are all wonderful and I LOVE YOU! Dear cutecoati, I don't know if it's exactly what you envisioned when you sent your second round of ideas, but I hope you like it all the same.
“Draco, do I have to?”
Draco arched a brow at Harry's childish whine as he straightened his tie.
“Yes, you most certainly do have to,” he answered without the slightest hint of sympathy.
“But they hate me,” Harry said and pouted.
“They do no hate you. For god's sake, Harry, don't be so dramatic.”
“If looks could kill, your father would have reduced me to a pile of ash a thousand times over.”
“Oh, tosh. Daddy's just a little protective of me, that's all.”
“He threatened to tie me up in the dungeon with a dozen hungry nundu if I dared to make you even the slightest bit unhappy,” Harry reminded him wryly.
“What's your point?”
“My point is that tonight is going to be a disaster! Friday night dinners are bad enough, but spending Christmas Eve with them? Holidays tend to bring out the worst in even the most docile of families; I'm terrified to think how it will affect yours.”
“Need I remind you that I suffered through Christmas at the Weasleys' last year for you? Nothing could be as bad as that fiasco.”
Harry tugged at his unruly hair, trying to make it lie flat as he fought the urge to blush. “George apologised for that.”
“He bloody well attacked me!”
“It wasn't his fault! He was unimaginably drunk and you do rather resemble Lucy from behind,” Harry defended, snickering at the memory. At the time, he hadn't found it quite so funny.
Draco let out an indignant squeak. “I most certainly do not!”
“It was the hair. There aren't that many platinum blonds about, you know.”
“And then there was that ridiculous fucking jumper you forced me to wear!”
“Hey, Molly worked hard on that jumper. Besides, I think it looked rather sexy on you. In fact, you should wear it tonight,” he suggested, his eyes lighting up at the mental image of Lucius Malfoy's face should Draco dare to show up in a Weasley jumper.
“Not a chance in hell, Potter,” Draco said with a snort.
“Ah, come on! If I have to endure a full night with your father, it's the least you can do.”
“Nice try,” he drawled, batting Harry's hands away from his hair and taking over. In mere moments he'd tamed Harry's unruly tufts into submission.
“How do you do that?” Harry asked in awe.
“What can I say? I'm a very talented man,” Draco replied with a haughty smirk.
Harry's expression turned impish as he wrapped his arms around Draco's waist and pulled him close. “Yeah? Perhaps you should remind me just how talented you can be.”
“I'd love to,” he replied and for a second, Harry thought his ruse had worked. Then Draco smiled sweetly, patted his cheek and stepped away. “After we get back from the Manor.”
Harry's shoulders slumped as he realised his protests were futile. There was no getting out of this; and really, it wasn't fair to Draco to protest too much. Despite their cold and detached public image, the Malfoys were quite a close-knit family and Draco loved his parents deeply. Spending Christmas with them would make him happy and that, Harry reasoned, was the most important thing. He would just have to plaster a smile on his face, keep calm and carry on no matter what scathing remarks Draco's father made.
As if he'd read Harry's thoughts, Draco's smile softened. He stepped close and drew Harry into a lingering kiss. “It's going to be fine. I promise. Who knows, you might even enjoy yourself.”
Harry arched a brow, but held his tongue.
“And even if you don't, I'll make it up to you when we get home,” Draco promised, his expression melting into a look that had heat coiling in Harry's groin.
Before the sensation had even taken hold, Draco pulled back and strode toward the Floo, all business once again.
“All right, hop to, Potter. You know how Father feels about punctuality.”
With a heavy sigh, Harry steeled himself and followed Draco into the fire.
***
“You're late, Potter.”
Harry clenched his jaw as he stepped out of the fireplace and into the parlour of Malfoy Manor under the sneering gaze of Lucius Malfoy. He was less than a minute later than Draco and yet the portrait of him that Lucius had grudgingly added to the family clock was pointing at 'late'. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Harry stepped forward and offered his hand.
“Nice to see you, too, Lucius,” he greeted with a forced smile.
Lucius arched a brow and ignored Harry's proffered hand. “In the future you would do well to remember that when one is invited to a gathering at a certain time, one ought to at least make an effort to arrive at the appropriate time. Or perhaps you believe yourself above such social niceties?”
“Oh, Lucius, do give the boy a break. After all, it is Christmas,” Narcissa chided as she swept into the room, her lips pulled into a welcoming smile. She pulled Draco in for a hug and kissed both of his cheeks, murmuring her usual endearments in French, before turning to Harry and kissing him as well. “Happy Christmas, Harry.”
“Happy Christmas, Narcissa,” Harry replied, fighting the urge to scuff his toe and blush at her open affection.
After her initial shock and disbelief at first hearing he and Draco were in love, Narcissa had been surprisingly open to their relationship. Draco and his happiness always came first, she'd said, and if being with Harry Potter was what had him smiling again, she was more than happy to welcome him into the family. Narcissa had been true to her word and always greeted Harry with a genuine smile. She'd also been a godsend where Lucius was concerned, keeping him in line often with a single arched brow.
“You look lovely,” Harry said, taking in her scarlet embroidered robes. They were made of a rich velvet and looked surprisingly festive. She'd even managed to get Lucius to dress in a matching waistcoat and tie.
“Potter, kindly stop ogling my wife. Is it not enough that you've corrupted my son?” Lucius said with a glare as he pulled Narcissa to his side.
“Yeah, Potter, are you some sort of deviant?”
Harry's spine stiffened as Pansy Parkinson slinked into the room with Blaise Zabini close behind. The night had just got infinitely more excruciating. He turned and sent Draco a withering glare. Draco blinked innocently.
“I'm sorry, love, didn't I mention Pansy and Blaise were coming?”
“It must have slipped your mind,” Harry bit out between clenched teeth. Pansy never failed to torment Harry; always there with a sneer and the inevitable reminder that she had had Draco first. Logically, Harry knew he shouldn't be bothered by her needling; after all, she may have had him first, but Harry had him now and he wasn't about to let him go. Still, something about the way she acted around him never failed to raise his hackles.
“Well, Potter, aren't you going to say hello?” Pansy asked with an overly-sweet smile. “You're being rude.”
“Hello, Pansy,” Harry ground out. He tried to smile, but had a feeling it looked more like a pained grimace than anything else. “Blaise, how are you?”
Blaise smirked and gave Harry his customary once-over glance that never failed to make him feel like he was naked. Harry shifted uncomfortably and wished desperately for a drink.
“He's my date, Potter, so he's doing very well,” Pansy answered with a smirk. Blaise sent Harry a lascivious wink and Harry pressed closer to Draco's side, wishing fiercely to be anywhere but there.
“Harry, dear, would you like a drink?” Narcissa offered.
“Dear Merlin, yes,” Harry answered, blushing at his slight outburst and Narcissa's arched brow. He cleared his throat. “I mean, yes, please. That would be lovely.”
The second the house-elf popped in with his eggnog, Harry gulped it down, ignoring Draco's disapproving look, and asked for another. Normally he couldn't abide eggnog, but it had alcohol in it and so was more than acceptable. He had a feeling he'd need quite a few to get through the night.
***
Dinner was an awkward affair at best with Lucius' glare, Blaise's heated looks and Pansy's incessant snarking and belittling, but Harry got through it with his copious alcohol consumption. By the third course, Harry was warm and Lucius' glare seemed almost pleasant. By the fifth, his cheeks were flushed and Pansy's sarcasm was positively charming. Blaise was, unfortunately, still creeping Harry out, but at least with the alcohol it was easier to ignore.
“You all right, there, Potter?” Pansy asked with a smirk, “You're looking a bit...happy.”
“I'm brilliant,” Harry said with a wide smile.
“You're drunk.” Draco frowned, pursing his lips in disapproval. Harry didn't like it when Draco frowned.
“No, I'm not, love, honest. Just a little tipsy,” Harry protested earnestly before turning to Narcissa. “Brilliant eggnog, 'Cissa, really. Top notch. Just like you.”
“Oh, for Salazar's sake,” Lucius scoffed.
“Thank you, Harry,” Narcissa said, amusement shining in her eyes. “Now, shall we retire to the sitting room?”
With that, everyone gathered their after-dinner drinks and rose from the table. Harry stood and followed them out, only weaving the slightest bit. His jaw dropped as he entered the regal sitting room. The entire room sparkled with silver, red and green decorations. Icicles were charmed to hang from the fireplace and glittered like diamonds. Enchanted snow fell from the ceiling and was that a pair of miniature penguins ice skating on a tiny pond?
The centrepiece of the whole affair was a giant twelve-foot Christmas tree and an obscene mountain of gifts beneath it. What had to be thousands of fairy lights lit the boughs of the tree, twinkling merrily and lending unbelievable warmth and cheer to the room. For the first time since he'd first set foot the Manor, it felt like a proper home.
“Wow,” Harry breathed in awe, drunkenly transfixed by the glow of the tree.
“It's beautiful, isn't it?” Draco said softly as he pressed against Harry's side. Harry leaned into the warmth of his body, his heart suddenly light.
“Yeah. It really is.”
Draco dropped a kiss to his neck and Harry could feel the curve of his smile against his skin. “Come on.”
They moved to sit on a small, but cosy settee by the fire as a house-elf popped in to refresh everyone's drinks and offer a tray of light snacks. Harry was so wrapped up in how homey and comfortable it all was that he almost missed it when Narcissa began to speak again.
“Now, Harry,” she began, “it is tradition in the Malfoy home that on Christmas Eve, everyone open a single gift. The catch is, you may not choose which of your gifts you open. The giver will choose for you. As usual, we will begin with the head of the family.”
Harry watched as Narcissa handed Lucius a package. He unwrapped it with precise movements, without a hint of enthusiasm, and calmly extracted a gleaming pocket watch that was easily worth a thousand Galleons.
“It's lovely, my dear,” he said, pressing a kiss to Narcissa's cheek. “Thank you.”
As they continued down the line, Harry began to fidget. It seemed the alcohol he'd imbibed had finally started to get to him. He rose with a quickly muttered apology and hurried from the room in search of the nearest bathroom.
Harry had just finished tucking himself back into his trousers when the he heard the door open and close.
“I thought you said we couldn't shag at your parent's house,” he teased, thinking it was Draco.
“When did I ever say that?”
Harry's smile disappeared and his gaze snapped up to find Blaise leaning against the sink.
“What are you doing in here?”
Blaise smirked and swaggered forward, backing Harry up against the wall.
“I was just thinking it might be nice to get to know each other a little better. Draco was always so obsessed with you,” he mused. “I never understood why until now.”
Blaise reached out to trail a finger down Harry's cheek. Harry jerked back, his head swimming, the alcohol muddying his reflexes. He suddenly wished he hadn't had so much to drink.
“Don't,” he warned, trying to look menacing despite his fairly useless, inebriated state.
“Are you sure?” Blaise purred, pressing closer so that his lips hovered over Harry's. “Lucius has Draco distracted with his gift. We have time. Draco will never have to know.”
“I said 'no',” Harry bit out, readying himself for a fight, “and if you don't back off, I will hurt you, drunk or not.”
“Good answer,” Blaise breathed, pulling back with a smirk.
Harry blinked, utterly confused. A moment later, Pansy slid into the room and moved to stand in front of him with an appraising look.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
“Congratulations, Potter. You passed our little test,” Pansy answered.
“Test?” Harry echoed, the beginnings of real anger working to sober him a bit.
“Even drunk you didn't give in to Blaise and he's practically soaked in Eros' eau de cologne. You must really be in love with Draco.”
“Of course I'm really in love with him. You could have just asked if being together for over a year wasn't enough proof. Fuck, what is the matter with you?”
“We're Slytherins, Potter. Remember? We don't take anyone's word for anything, least of all yours.”
Before Harry could respond, Pansy drew her wand and hit him with a spell that had his vision clearing and his stomach protesting.
“Fuck's sake! A little warning next time?”
“Where's the fun in that?” she drawled. “Now that you're sober again, clean yourself up and come back inside. It's time for your gift.”
With that, she turned and sauntered from the room. Blaise paused just long enough to blow Harry a mocking kiss before following her out.
“Bloody Slytherins.”
***
Five minutes later, Harry returned to the sitting room.
“Everything all right?” Draco asked with a smile, though Harry could see a hint of concern in his gaze. It went a long way to easing the last of his spell-induced headache and he sent Draco a smile of his own.
“Everything's fine, love. Sorry I took so long.”
“I believe it's your turn to receive a gift, Harry,” Narcissa said as Harry reclaimed his seat next to Draco.
“Oh, you didn't have to get me anything.”
“They didn't,” Draco said looking suddenly nervous, “Well, they did, but I'm giving you your gift tonight.”
“Oh, all right,” Harry replied, wondering what Draco could possibly look nervous about. His eyes flicked to Pansy as she moved to lean against the mantle. Her knowing expression had Harry gulping before he turned back to Draco.
“Harry,” Draco cleared his throat and started again. “We've been together for a while now. It's been nearly a year and a half and it's been one of the happiest times of my life. Somehow, despite all the bad things that happened between us in our past, we've managed to come together and build a life together.”
Harry's mouth went dry and his heart skipped a beat as Draco pulled a small box from within his robes.
“I know we aren't perfect; our fights are epic and would scare most people away, but in truth, that's part of what makes life with you so wonderful. We're not perfect, but we're perfect together and I want to spend the rest of my life fighting with you.”
A grin spread across Harry's face at that and he watched with a mix of amusement and disbelief as Draco Malfoy - his Draco - slipped off the settee and onto one knee. Harry's grin slid off of his face as Draco opened the box to reveal the most beautiful platinum ring; a dragon entwined with a phoenix engraved in an intricate design along the band.
“Will you marry me, Harry?”
A strangled sound rose from Lucius' side of the room, but it barely registered past the sound of Harry's heart pounding in his ears. Harry's mind raced as a thousand answers raced through his mind and he struggled to find the best one, the most memorable. In the end, all he could manage was, “Yes.”
Draco's smile was breathtaking as he surged up and pulled Harry into a kiss. Narcissa's cheer of congratulations as well as Lucius' shocked, “Son of a bitch”, were lost as Draco's lips slid against Harry's.
“This calls for champagne,” Narcissa announced before calling a house-elf. Drinks were passed around and Harry couldn't hide his amusement as Lucius promptly downed his in one go and demanded an entire bottle of Ogden's.
Apparently it was Lucius' turn to drown his sorrows in alcohol.
***
Two hours and several drinks later, the house was filled with laughter and merriment. The occupants were spread about the room, laughing hysterically as Pansy did her best to silently communicate which famous witch or wizard she was trying to impersonate.
“Nicholas Flamel!”
“Gilderoy Lockhart!”
“Francie the Flatulent!”
Draco wrinkled his nose and shook his head at Harry. “Francie was a troll, Harry, not a Wizard.”
“Oh, right,” Harry said with a giggle. Draco soon joined him and in a matter of seconds the whole room had dissolved into laughter.
“Oh, for fuck's sake, I was Helga Hufflepuff!”
Pansy's revelation only had the laughter increasing ten-fold. Harry started when Lucius fell off the arm of the settee and against him.
“Helga Huff'puff, Potter!” he crowed, waving his mostly-empty bottle of Firewhisky.
Harry merely laughed harder and hoped he wasn't too inebriated to remember the sight of Lucius Malfoy falling down drunk and giggling like a mad schoolboy.
“You're all terrible at this game,” Pansy said and pouted as she swerved back to her seat. She missed and promptly landed in Blaise's lap, who accepted her happily.
“New one. Game. Need a,” Lucius said brokenly, frowning as if he couldn't quite make his mouth form the words he wanted to. “Carols!”
With that exclamation, Lucius leapt up from the settee, stumbled a bit before he got his footing and withdrew his wand. It took him three attempts, but he finally managed to cast a spell that had the familiar music of Deck the Hall playing in the air.
Deck the hall with shrunken elf heads
Fa la la la la la la la la
Take a Malfoy to your bed
Fa la la la la la la la la
Don shiny robes and pointy headwear
Fa la la la la la la la la
While the Muggles stop and stare
Fa la la la la la la la la
“Come on, everybody! Sing!”
As the rest of them began to sing, Harry found himself nearly in tears from laughing so hard. Though he knew the tune, the lyrics were so ridiculously different from the Muggle ones he'd grown up with.
“Come on, Potter! Sing!” Lucius demanded as he stumbled forward and yanked Harry out of his seat.
“I...don't know...the words,” Harry managed to say between his giggles.
Lucius' look was one of such disbelief, it had Harry snorting.
“How can you not know the words? Every wizard should know the words to 'Deck the Hall'!”
Apparently wizarding carols were of the utmost importance.
“I'll teach you,” Lucius said decisively as he lifted his wand. After a moment, he managed to cast a spell that had the lyrics forming in the air and Harry raised his voice along with the others as Lucius sent him a hearty look of approval.
“Th'ssa boy, Potter!”
They swayed, sang and giggled through three songs before Lucius stopped with a frown.
“Bugger, outta booze,” he muttered with a pout. “C'mon, Potter, le's get more.”
Lucius dragged Harry toward the door with his arm still around his neck. Suddenly, they stopped.
“Wha'th hell?” Lucius slurred as he made to move forward, only to be prevented by some unseen force.
“Oh, shit,” Draco said. Harry sent him a questioning look only to find that his fiancé was looking above his head. Slowly, as if in a horror film, Harry followed the direction of his head to find a horribly familiar-looking plant over them.
“Magical mistletoe!” Pansy cried, shrieking with laughter from Blaise's lap.
“What?!” Harry squealed, trying to pull away from the arm around his neck.
“Oh, bugger,” Lucius muttered.
“You have to kiss him,” Blaise piped up, sending Harry an evil smirk.
“Can't I just not and say I did?”
“I'm afraid not, Harry,” Narcissa said, looking as though she was desperately trying not to laugh. “The magic won't allow you to.”
“Oh, well, best get it over with. C'mere, Potter,” Lucius slurred.
Harry let out a little 'eep' of protest as Lucius' arm flexed and pulled him close for a snog. It lasted a bit longer than Harry thought was necessary, but, thankfully, Draco was there and pulling Harry back within a few minutes.
Lucius swayed at the sudden loss of support, but righted himself easily enough considering the amount of alcohol in his system. His cheeks were bright and rosy and he had a wide smile on his face as he swayed toward Harry. Lifting a hand, he patted Harry's cheek affectionately.
“Y'know, y're all right, Potter,” he proclaimed drowsily.
“All right,” Narcissa said as she glided over, somehow still graceful. “I think it's time for bed.”
“But I want to sing more carols,” Lucius protested with a pout so reminiscent of Draco's that Harry couldn't hold back a snicker.
“I know you do, pet. Tomorrow. We can sing more tomorrow.”
“'kay. G'night, Potter!”
“Night, Lucius,” Harry said with a little wave as he watched Narcissa lead him toward the stairs.
“We should probably turn in as well,” Pansy announced. Harry turned and caught her sending Blaise a steamy glance and promptly looked away. She may have more or less given him her blessing, but they were hardly friends and even if they were, the last thing Harry wanted to do was think of her and Blaise having sex.
“Yeah,” Draco agreed, sending Harry a look made him think that maybe Draco was possibly reconsidering his 'no sex at the Manor' rule.
“Night, then!” Harry threw the words over his shoulder and pulled Draco down the hall to their room.
In the end, the combination of alcohol and warmth worked against them. They barely got undressed before they were collapsing onto the thick mattress and falling asleep.
***
Christmas morning was filled with headaches, groaning and a lot of fuzzy memories, though the main highlights of the night were startlingly clear. Harry remembered the proposal, the singing and the kissing. Needless to say, all it had taken was one commiserating glance at Lucius and they'd made a silent agreement never to speak of it. It seemed that shared humiliation had served to bond them as Lucius was downright pleasant throughout breakfast.
After breakfast, they piled into the sitting room and opened presents. While it was markedly less wild and chaotic than a Weasley Christmas morning, the air of contentment and happiness that had filled Harry the night before remained. There was, however, a slight uproar when Draco found out about Blaise trying to kiss Harry the night before. Harry had watched in delighted amusement as his cool, calm and collected Slytherin had chased his best friend around the room, threatening to kill him while Blaise protested, insisting that he'd mistaken Harry for Pansy because of their dark hair. Draco had sneered, but eventually let it go. At least for the moment.
Harry got more gifts than he'd ever received in his life and not all of them were from Draco as he'd suspected they might be; quite a few had been from Narcissa and Lucius and he'd even got something from Pansy and Blaise. It was, surprisingly, one of the best Christmases Harry had ever had.
“You know, they aren't really that different from the Weasleys,” Harry said as they stepped out of the Floo and into their shared flat.
Draco sent him a horrified look. “Take that back, Potter!”
Harry just laughed as he moved to set his things on the sofa. “Well, at least your father doesn't hate me any more. Plus, you don't have to worry about me teasing you about George.”
“That reminds me, Pansy, Blaise and I need to have a proper 'conversation' about that.”
“They were just trying to protect you,” Harry said as he pulled Draco into his arms. “Besides, it turned out well in the end.”
Draco smiled warmly and leaned his forehead against Harry's. “Yeah. It really did. I'm so glad you said 'yes'.”
“As if I'd have said anything else.”
“Well, you never know. Now we just have to sort out what to do about Christmas next year. This year was such a hit, I'm sure Mother and Father will want us back.”
“Maybe next year we should get the Weasleys and the Malfoys together,” Harry suggested with a smile.
“Good luck with that,” Draco snorted. “The Weasleys and the Malfoys do not mix.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Harry pointed out with a glance to his engagement ring.
Draco's gaze followed Harry's and his smile widened.
“Fair enough. Let's ask them.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Harry grinned. “It'll be a Christmas to remember.”
END