Chapter Text
"Remind me again why we are driving a Christmas tree to someone’s house in the middle of a snow blizzard on Christmas Eve.”
Remus rolled his eyes as a smile flickered across his lips. He glanced quickly to the blonde teenager beside him, who was glaring at the snow falling heavily outside. Draco Malfoy had the patience of a three-year-old child.
“Because the guys who bought it somehow forgot that a twelve-foot Christmas tree would not fit on an old, rusty motorbike. Therefore, we have to drive it to their house.”
“I don’t understand why I have to pay for someone else’s stupidity.”
Remus laughed. He had hired Draco three years ago and every Christmas since, he had worked at Remus’ Christmas Tree shop. Draco Malfoy was his right-hand man, and despite the age difference, they had quickly become close friends. He would miss the jokes and the chatter after tonight.
“That is the capitalist society for you. Someone has always got to pay for someone else’s mistake.”
Draco huffed. “Don’t get all pretentious and smart on me. It was just two idiots who seem to lack any sort of common knowledge or intellect.”
“I’m sure you would fit in with them wonderfully,” Remus responded, a smirk on his face.
“They seem more like your type if I’m honest,” Draco retorted, a smile finally on his lips.
The two men in question had appeared at Remus’ Christmas Tree shop, driving a dangerous-looking motorbike into the abandoned car park. One was tall and gangly, a warm friendly smile and dark glasses on his face. Remus had liked him immediately. Remus, however, did not like the other man. His long, black hair and strangely beautiful grey eyes had Remus almost dying on the spot. His jaw was too perfectly sharp and his smile unfairly soft. He looked like the son of a God and a supermodel. Remus did not like him at all.
“We aren’t meant to do customer deliveries, especially on Christmas Eve,” Draco groaned.
“I know, but I felt bad. You can’t have a proper Christmas without a Christmas tree. And, anyway, you did agree to come with me, despite me insisting you should go home, so stop complaining.” Remus reached over and pulled Draco’s hat down over his eyes.
“Hey!” Draco screeched, pulling his hat up and glaring at Remus, while the other man laughed. “The only one who should be getting told off right now is you! You didn’t feel bad for those men. You just liked that Mr. Model Guy.”
Remus rolled his eyes. “His name is Sirius.”
“See! You even know his name. You were extra sarcastic when he was around, and you only do that when you have a crush on someone. Plus, you were blushing a deeper red than Rudolph’s nose. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you either.”
Remus swallowed. He had noticed that. The staring. Remus hated being stared at. It made the scars that etched across his features seem more prominent under the heavy gaze. He knew that Sirius’ glances had nothing to do with attraction. It was probably morbid curiosity, yet Remus could never shake the feeling that he was being laughed at when someone looked at him like that.
“He’s attractive, but not my type,” Remus eventually replied.
“Whatever you say, Rem. Whatever you say.”
The two sat in a comfortable silence for the rest of the journey. Micheal Buble’s Christmas album played softly from the radio, as the snow fell like a white sheet as they drove. Remus smiled to himself. He loved Christmas. Maybe this year he wouldn’t have to spend it alone.
“Thanks for the help.” Remus took off his hat and swiped his hand across his forehead. “I don’t think we could have brought that in without you.”
Remus stood in a large hallway, twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the winding staircase and a twelve-foot, snow-covered Christmas tree dropped onto its marble floors. Class and money seemed to drip from every surface in the Potter household, yet it still felt comfortable, homely. Remus liked it.
“You’re the one who should be thanked,” James replied, taking off his hat and scarf, draping them across an old chair that stood nearby. His glasses were covered in snow as he spoke and Remus could feel Draco trying to suppress his laughter from beside him.
Suddenly, a large hand was on Remus’ back. “Yeah,” Sirius said, leaning into Remus and whispering. “Lily would have put us in the oven and cooked us for dinner if we didn’t bring a Christmas tree back.”
Remus tried to suppress the shivers crawling up his spine at the proximity. Sirius’ voice was hot in his ear and, even through layers of clothing, his body felt hot and clammy at the touch.
“You wouldn’t taste nice. I would much rather use your bodies to burn so the fire wouldn’t die out.”
Remus glanced up to see a woman, with bright ginger hair and freckles scattered over her pale face, standing in the doorway.
James stepped over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “That’s low, Lily. Even for you.” James paused, pointing to Remus. “Lils, this is Draco and Remus. Draco and Remus, this is my wife, Lily.”
“Nice to meet you,” Draco offered, smiling.
“It’s nice to meet you both, too. I’m sorry that my husband and his best friend lack any sort of competence present in any functioning human being.”
“Don’t apologise. It can’t be helped in cases like theirs,” Remus replied, smirking.
Lily laughed. “Very true. Now, both of you may take off your jackets and come with me. I’ve made cookies.”
“No, no. We-”
“You should stay for a while, even until the snow dies down. Plus, Lily does make the best cookies.” Sirius’ eyes pleaded with Remus and the other man found it very hard to refuse when Sirius was looking at him like that.
“I can’t. I need to bring Draco home.”
“Oh, I don’t mind. Mother and father won’t be expecting me until later anyway.”
Sirius stepped forward. “So is that a yes?”
Remus didn’t know why he felt this way around Sirius or why his heart seemed to squeeze every time Sirius came near. He didn’t know why Sirius kept looking at him like that, why it no longer made Remus feel insecure but nervous and excited. Remus most of all didn’t know why he mumbled a quiet “yes” to staying and why Sirius’ smile seemed to grow and grow with his response.
He didn’t know anything and, for the first time, that didn’t seem scary at all.
Draco Malfoy hadn’t been proven wrong many times in his life. He could probably count the numbers of times he stood corrected on one hand. It was something he had always prided himself on.
So when he had told Lily Potter that her iced cookies were the most beautiful things he had ever seen, he had not expected to find himself wrong. (Her icing skills were magnificent and her technique had almost made Draco cry with joy.)
But then he had walked in. The boy with black, messy hair and round glasses like his father. The boy whose eyes were a more gleaming emerald than mother’s jewels. The boy with long legs and soft voice and gentle smile.
The boy whose name was Harry Potter. The most beautiful thing Draco had ever seen.
Draco tried not to stare. He really did. But Harry Potter was standing right there, a foam of cream lining his upper lip from hot chocolate and looking like a bloody Christmas miracle. Draco only had so much self-control.
Harry was talking to Remus and Sirius, a smile always toying at his lips as he leaned against the edge of the sofa. The living room was large yet cosy, a fire crackling below the mantlepiece and soft seats surrounding it. Lily’s dish of cookies sat empty on a table and mugs of hot chocolate had been handed around a few minutes prior.
Draco felt more at home here than he ever had at Malfoy Manor.
“The storm doesn’t seem to have slowed yet. It would be too dangerous for either of you to drive in that.” James announced, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
“I agree. I think you should wait a little longer, and while you wait, we can put up the Christmas tree.” Sirius’ words were directed towards the whole room, but his eyes never left Remus. Draco hoped Remus didn’t let his fear of trusting others get in the way of whatever was happening between him and Sirius. It was blatantly obvious that Sirius was obsessed with him.
“I’ll go get the decorations. The rest of you can help put up the tree,” James said, before walking out with an excited grin on his face.
Draco pushed himself up from the mountain of cushions he was squished between and stood, following the others as they left the room. However, his foot caught on the wire for the fairy lights and suddenly his whole body was propelled forward, his hands up to cushion his fall.
Yet he never hit the floor. A strong hand had caught him and was wrapped firmly around his forearm. A hand that was now pulling him up, back to his feet. A hand that belonged to Harry Potter.
Draco didn’t think “embarrassed” cut it for what he was feeling right now.
“Careful,” Harry said, studying Draco for any injuries.
Draco couldn’t meet Harry’s eyes. “Sorry. I’m so clumsy.”
“It’s ok. Not your fault. I’ve tripped over that wire three times in the last week too.”
Draco slowly dragged his eyes up and blushed when he saw the kind expression on Harry’s face. “Thanks for catching me.”
Harry grinned. “You’re welcome.”
It was then Draco noticed Harry’s hand still clutching his arm. Heat seemed to radiate from where his fingers wrapped around Draco’s skin, and their bodies were close under the twinkling lights above.
When Harry let his hand drop and stepped away, Draco found himself wishing the gentle grip had stayed there.
“What… are you wearing?” Harry asked slowly, staring at Draco’s jumper.
Draco glanced down. Oh fuck.
He was wearing a Christmas jumper. A Christmas jumper with gingerbread men, reindeer and a light up Christmas tree in the centre that was now flashing different colours. It was the most horrendous thing he owned.
“I-I have to wear it for work. It’s really ugly and I hate with a burning passion, but it was the only thing I could find and I was running late and-”
“It’s cute.”
Harry’s statement stopped Draco mid-rant.
“What?” He asked, staring at Harry and noticing the pink tinge growing on the dark cheeks.
Harry squirmed slightly. “It-it’s nice. I like it.”
“Oh. Thanks,” was all Draco could respond. He could feel his cheeks blushing a deep red as he turned and walked out, Harry following close behind.
Malfoy’s did not blush. Not even for boys with dark, curly hair and bright, green eyes. Not even for boys whose rueful smiles made Draco’s heart stammer.
Yet Draco’s face was dusted pink and warm as he entered the hall, but he noticed he was not the only one blushing. Harry’s face was glowing red and Draco wondered if Harry’s heart seemed to be swelling in his chest too.
Draco hoped it did.
“So, what’s it like working in a Christmas tree shop?”
Harry’s voice pulled Draco from his trance, as he stared at the Christmas tree. The lights had been successfully draped across the branches and the warm glow radiating off it made Draco’s excitement grow tenfold. He loved Christmas.
Draco turned to Harry, who was holding a box of baubles in his arms.
“It’s fantastic. I love it. It can be cold and tiring, but everyone who comes is always so happy and excited. Plus, it’s the most christmasy job ever.”
Harry smiled. “That sounds amazing.”
Draco reached over and took two baubles from the box, one red and round, the other an intricate, golden star.
“It is. I get to spend my Christmas making other people happy and I can talk to Remus all day. It’s much better than the other option of sitting at home, doing nothing.”
“You and Remus are really close, aren’t you?”
Draco smiled. “Yeah. When I started working there, I didn’t think we could get along but now I don’t know what I would do without him. I love working with him.”
“I’m sure he loves working with you too,” Harry replied, his eyes sparkling.
The two moved towards the tree and Harry lowered the box to the floor. The others had already started placing the decorations on while Christmas music played softly from a speaker somewhere.
“I’ve never decorated a Christmas tree before,” Draco said. He hadn’t meant to say the words out loud.
Harry gaped at him. “What?!”
“Usually the servants do it for us,” Draco replied, wincing at Harry’s confused expression. Why did he always have to sound like a snobby arse?
“I’ve always wanted to,” Draco mumbled, trying to recover any shred of respect Harry had left for him. “It’s just Mother doesn’t want me to mess it up and Father insists that it would be silly of me to decorate it when we have servants and… I’ve never really had the chance.”
“Well,” Harry said, placing his hand on Draco’s and guiding it up to a branch, the red bauble dangling from Draco’s fingers. “we’d better make this the best Christmas tree decorating ever then.”
As the two hands hung the ornament delicately on the tree and stayed intertwined long after the first bauble had been placed, Draco was sure he was screwed for every Christmas after this because nothing could compare to decorating a tree with Harry Potter. Nothing could ever compare to Harry.
Remus didn’t know whether to cry or scream when he heard the news.
They would have to stay. He and Draco would be staying at the Potter’s house on Christmas Eve.
They had realised after the Christmas tree had been fully decorated, the star gleaming at the top and the lights glowing gently on the branches. It was pitch black outside, yet they could still see the layers of snow cascading down. There was little chance of survival if they tried to drive in that.
But Remus didn’t think there was a much better chance of survival if he remained in this place any longer.
He had been forced to watch Sirius’ shirt riding up every time he reached to place a bauble on the tree, exposing his toned stomach. He had to stop himself from fainting when Sirius pressed up against his back to reach a branch above Remus. Worst of all, he had to see the way Sirius’ face lit up with pure happiness when the lights were turned on and the Christmas tree glowed brightly, but not as much as Sirius’ face. It had been hell on earth.
It had been heaven on earth.
“Remus. Are you ready? Dinner is almost finished.” Sirius’ voice came from behind the door of one of the many guest bedrooms in which Remus was now standing in.
Remus glanced in the mirror and swallowed. This was too much.
He was wearing a pair of slightly too short pyjama bottoms (Lily had insisted pyjamas was a necessity for Christmas Eve dinner) and an over-sized burgundy hoodie. But it wasn’t the clothes that were the problem. It was who they belonged to.
The smell of Sirius seemed to radiate off the clothes and Remus couldn’t stop his heart from stuttering as he imagined Sirius in them, all cosy and warm.
This was all too much.
The door swung open. “Ok, Remus. I’m coming in. You’re taking way too - Oh.”
Remus spun around. Sirius was standing in the doorway, a strange expression on his face and his eyes wide.
“The bottoms are a bit small, but I think they will do,” Remus muttered self-consciously, running a hand through his hair.
Sirius stared for a moment, a pink tinge growing on his cheeks, until he shook his head and smiled.
“You look marvellous.”
Remus moved to the door, smiling. “No need to be sarcastic.”
“I’m not! You honestly do look good,” Sirius replied, following Remus out the door.
Remus told himself that the blush on his cheeks and nothing to do with those words or how Sirius kept glancing at him from the corner of his eye.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, wanting to tell Sirius how adorable he looked in those tartan trousers and fluffy nightgown, but he didn’t.
During dinner, he wanted to grab Sirius’ hand under the table and hold it all night, like Draco and Harry were doing across from him, but he didn’t. He wanted to tell Lily and James how much this all meant to him, how this was the first Christmas in ten years where he had felt genuinely happy, but he didn’t. He wanted to hope and love and believe, but he didn’t.
He didn’t because this was the real world and Christmas miracles only lasted until Christmas was over and this would all disappear after tomorrow. He didn’t because he would have to go back to his lonely cabin with no customers and no Draco to distract him.
Remus didn’t do any of this because soon this beautiful home, with beautiful people and beautiful Sirius Black would be gone and Remus felt like he would be mourning for the rest of his life.
And no amount of Christmas magic could change that.
“What are you doing out here?”
Draco looked up from where he had been staring at the dying fire, a fluffy blanket wrapped around his shoulders. It was half eleven on Christmas Eve and Harry Potter was standing in the doorway to the living room, his dark hair pointing in all directions.
Somehow, he looked even more stunning than only a few hours ago.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Draco replied, glancing to Harry’s hand and remembering how it had never left his all through dinner. Draco blushed.
Harry made his way over and sat down beside Draco, close enough to know it was on purpose. “Neither can I. I never really sleep on Christmas Eve. When I was young, I used to get so excited for Santa that I couldn’t sleep the whole week before Christmas Day.”
Draco smiled, picturing a young Harry laying awake at night and wishing for presents. His heart squeezed at the image.
“Why can’t you sleep now?”
Harry met Draco’s gaze, his eyes glittering. “Well, it’s very hard to sleep when you can’t stop thinking about a pretty blond who magically turned up on your doorstep.”
Draco blushed, but his smile was wide and his heart light. He lifted the blanket so it wrapped around them both, squishing them closer together. He hoped the gesture conveyed what his words would have failed to.
Draco saw Harry grin from the corner of his eye.
“I’m sorry you can’t spend Christmas with your family,” Harry’s voice was soft, barely audible above the sound of the crackling fire.
“It’s ok. Christmas at the Manor isn’t very… enjoyable, anyway.”
A gentle hand snaked its way around Draco’s side and Draco let his head fall onto the shoulder it belonged too.
Harry likely knew that Draco’s Christmas was very different to his own. Draco had thought Harry had been joking when he was told they would be eating dinner in their pyjamas. He was used to luxurious feasts and smart suits during Christmas, not eating so much chocolate you felt sick or laughing until your chest hurt. Draco wasn’t used to such informality.
Draco wasn’t used to such happiness.
“This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” Draco whispered into Harry’s neck.
“It’s not even Christmas Day yet. I think you’ll change your mind when Dad and Sirius fight over how mashed the mashed potatoes should be. Things can get very heated.”
Draco giggled. “I’m being serious, you idiot.”
“I know,” Harry said and the sincerity in his voice made Draco’s laughter cease.
There was silence for a moment before Harry spoke again.
“I wish you could stay every Christmas.”
Draco’s heart stuttered at the words. He’d known Harry less than a day, yet he felt more comfortable, more at home around him than anyone he had ever met. Draco knew he shouldn’t feel like this already, like Harry was the person he could spend the rest of his life with, but he did.
Draco hoped Harry did too.
“I wish that as well,” Draco murmured, lifting his head to meet Harry’s emerald gaze.
The clock struck midnight from the mantlepiece, it’s delicate chiming causing the two boys to turn. They watched the bells ring for a few moments, realising that Christmas Day had now come.
“Merry Christmas, Draco,” Harry whispered and when Draco turned to face him, he found their heads were much closer than before.
Draco tore his gaze from Harry’s lips to his eyes, shocked at the intensity hidden in the green. “Merry Christmas, Harry,” he whispered back, watching Harry’s breath catch when he placed a cold hand atop Harry’s own.
Draco Malfoy was unsure about a lot of things in his life. He was unsure of whether his father would accept his sexuality, if he had chosen the right subjects in school, if his life was destined to be controlled by family and money like all the Malfoys before him.
The one thing he was sure about, however, was kissing Harry Potter.
He leaned in, pressing his lips against Harry’s and pushing his hand into the soft, dark curls. Harry reciprocated, lifting a gentle hand to Draco’s face and stroking his cheek with his thumb, making Draco’s heart swell. Harry tasted like gingerbread and Draco’s lips moved against Harry’s like they were made to do so. Like they took no joy in talking and eating when they could be kissing Harry Potter.
And so they did, for a long time. Draco and Harry kissed until their lips were sore and the clock had chimed again, an hour gone by. They kissed until they were lying on the floor by the fireplace, their bodies tangled in Draco’s blanket. They kissed until the battle against sleep could no longer be fought and they lay defeated in each other’s arms, sleep having finally taken over.
And in the morning, when the awoke to the morning light and the fire long dead, they kissed again and Draco knew he didn’t need any Christmas presents.
Not when he had Harry Potter.
Remus had come to a decision last night while he tossed and turned, trying and failing to not think about Sirius Black. He would not allow himself to fall anymore for Sirius. He could not think about him, not get butterflies around him and certainly not have any of those strange heart palpations when Sirius looked his way.
He was going to forget about Sirius Black.
But when the dark-haired man pulled him from the living room on Christmas day and stood in the hallway, a bunch of mistletoe toe hanging clearly above and a hopeful expression on his face, any chance of Remus keeping his promise to himself seemed to vanish and all that was left was want.
“Sirius…” Remus whispered. He could still hear the noise from the living room.
Sirius stepped forward, an inch closer to Remus. “I know what you’re going to say. I know it’s weird, we barely know each other. But I can’t help what I feel and I know you feel it too, Rem. This thing between us, whatever it is, it’s something.”
“But ‘something’ doesn’t change the fact that you don’t know me. That you don’t know how much of a mess I am.”
Sirius reached for Remus’ hand. “I don’t care about that.”
“But you will!” Remus exclaimed, ripping his hand from Sirius’ reach. “You say that you don’t care now, that it doesn’t change anything but after a while, when you realise that you made a mistake, ‘something’ won’t be enough to save us.”
Remus stared ahead, not wanting to look at the hurt on Sirius’ face. He had never wanted to hurt Sirius, but he had been stupid and selfish and allowed Sirius to think they would ever work out.
“What are you so scared of?”
Remus glanced up sharply, the question catching him off-guard. “What?”
Sirius stared up at him, his grey eyes intense and focused. “What are you so scared of, Remus?”
“I’m not scared of anything,” Remus said, but his voice was shaky.
“Don’t lie to me.”
Remus swallowed. If he could do anything, he could at least tell Sirius the truth.
His voice was barely a whisper when he spoke. “I’m scared of you.”
“Why?” Sirius asked, his expression confused.
“I’ve spent Christmas alone for the past ten years, Sirius. My life revolves around growing Christmas trees and selling them and earning enough money to barely get by. And I’m used to it. I’ve accepted it, but I’m scared that you’re going to change that. I’m scared that you’re gonna make me wish for more than I have, make me think I deserve someone like you. And then one day, you’ll leave and I’ll be left alone again and it will be so much harder because I’ll know what it’s like to feel wanted and happy. And that terrifies me.”
Sirius stepped forward, taking both Remus’ hands in his own, his face displaying emotions Remus couldn’t decipher.
“Rem, I can’t promise you that we will work out and everything will be fine because I don’t know that. But I can promise that you won’t ever have to feel alone again because everyone in this house will be here for you if you need them, especially me. You deserve happiness and hope and love, even if you think you don’t, and I’m going to make you believe me because it is never a bad thing to think you deserve love.”
“But-”
“No buts, Remus. Unless it’s the very nice one you have behind you. I know you’re scared, but I am too. I’ve never felt like this before and it’s absolutely terrifying but that’s the whole point. It’s falling for someone, not tiptoeing or walking. It’s falling head first, blindly into something completely unknown, but wanting to do it anyway.”
Remus couldn’t pinpoint any one emotion that swirled through him at that moment. Sirius’ words had wakened apart of him that he had hidden long ago; the part that hoped. And for the first time in a long time, Remus listened to his heart instead of his head.
“Step back,” Remus ordered.
“What?”
“Just do it.”
Sirius moved backwards, his face full of confusion, and Remus moved with him. Remus nodded upwards, and Sirius glanced to the ceiling, a small smile painting his lips when he saw the mistletoe hanging above.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Sirius said, his stormy grey eyes full of trepidation.
Remus placed a hand on the most beautiful face he had ever seen and felt himself fall deeper and deeper for Sirius Black. And it still terrified him, how he felt for Sirius, but the thought of losing him scared Remus even more.
“The thing is,” Remus whispered, leaning in so that his lips almost against Sirius’ own. “I really want to kiss you.”
“Good,” Sirius replied, wrapping his arms around Remus’ neck. “-because I’ve been wanting to kiss you from the moment you walked through that door.”
As Remus Lupin kissed Sirius Black under the mistletoe, their bodies pressed tightly together and arms holding each other, he realised he had found his happiness in the form of a blond friend, a hilarious couple and their son, and a man whose arms felt like home.
A man who he was probably falling in love with.
Christmas had brought many things to the Potter home: a Christmas tree, a snowstorm, cookies, but it had also brought two hearts seeking a home that had finally found it.
Remus and Draco had found everything they never knew they needed.
They had found hope.