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It was Christmas Eve, and Harry and Draco stood on the front steps of the Burrow, having Apparated just outside the rickety gate festooned with faery lights. Draco pulled the woolen red hat farther down over Rosalie’s small ears and straightened the collar of her matching coat. She opened her red bow lips and blew a raspberry at him—something she was quite fond of doing.
“Manners, Little Miss,” he said primly, briefly pressing his forehead to hers. She chortled happily and reached out to grab a lock of his hair as it caught on the breeze and blew between them. “Ouch! No, no.”
“She likes bright and shiny things,” Harry said, his tone fond. “As do I.” He leaned over and helped Draco loosen the determined little fist from Draco’s white-blond locks. “Want me to take her?”
“No, I’ll…She’s fine.” Draco not only enjoyed holding her, he wanted to keep her as a shield. The Weasleys were certain not to be fans of his for various reasons, ranging from his former position in the war to having plucked Harry from the youngest Weasley’s freckled grasp and hustling him off to Rome for over a year. Having a cute baby attached to him could only make him less likely to be attacked. Plus she helped to cover up the hideous Christmas jumper Harry insisted he wear.
“Let me knock,” seven-year-old Teddy insisted, tugging on Harry’s coat.
Draco glanced at Harry, who fairly jiggled in his trainers, so eager was he to make their presence known.
Draco raised a brow.
“Ready?” Harry’s grin was a bit infectious.
Draco smiled and nodded, inwardly steeling himself. Rosalie blew another raspberry.
“It’s unanimous, then,” Harry touched a dark curl framing the baby’s face. “Time to meet your family, little girl. She’ll love them, won’t she, Teddy?”
Teddy nodded enthusiastically, and then at Harry’s nod, turned and knocked on the big wooden door, his hair turning a bright Weasley red as he did so.
Draco couldn’t help but give a moment to think about what it might have been like to have another family for Rosalie to meet. He imagined Christmas at the manor, with its high ceilings, echoing floors, and enormous trees bedecked with glowing baubles in every room. How might his parents have greeted them?
Draco would never know, for they were lost to him, casualties of an explosion at the ministry that killed dozens of former Death Eaters gathered there for their fifth and final yearly check-in before the release of magical restrictions. At the last minute, Draco had returned home for his thicker cloak, as it had been colder that day than anticipated, and just missed being a victim himself.
The tragedy had been the catalyst for his relationship with Harry, who in typical wonder-boy style had taken it upon himself to befriend his former enemy, now left suddenly parentless and in shock. Draco didn’t appreciate the pity behind it, but with patience and time Harry won him over, as he won everyone over eventually.
As the front door swung open, Draco plastered a smile on his face and tightened his hold on Rosalie. George Weasley stood smiling inanely and wearing something that immediately put Draco’s worries to rest concerning his own outfit. Draco believed it was called a “onesie,” and this one made George look like a giant, ginger-haired reindeer.
“Harry!” George threw his arms open, enveloping Harry in them as Teddy sped through the door and straight for the sound of giggling children. Someone pulled Draco over the threshold, and they were suddenly surrounded by dozens of chattering people.
Arthur took Draco’s cloak from him and patted him on the back, wishing him a happy Christmas.
“To you as well,” Draco replied stiffly, almost knocked off his feet by a fat Kneazle meandering around his legs. Arthur steadied him with a hand at his back and cooed at the baby.
“This must be Rosalie. Hello, my precious girl!”
Arthur didn’t get very far before Molly Weasley pushed her way through the throng, making grabby hands at the baby. “May I?”
“Of course.” Draco reluctantly relinquished Rosalie. He stood uncertain for a moment as Hermione enfolded Harry in a fierce embrace. Then, to Draco’s astonishment, Hermione grabbed hold of him, squashing him against her, giving him a face full of fragrant, wild hair.
“Happy Christmas, Draco! I thought you two would never return from Rome!” she gushed. “I can call you Draco now, can’t I?”
“Of course,” Draco said again.
“And you’ll call me by my first name and not Granger, although it’s Weasley now anyway. Ron?” She turned, and looked about until she spotted her husband. He approached, looking a bit abashed. “We were just talking this morning about how nice it is that you and Harry are together and that we can put old differences aside.”
Ron didn’t really look like he felt as happy about it as his wife, but he good-naturedly offered his hand for Draco to shake. A familiar arm slid about Draco’s waist, and he relaxed a bit.
“Something smells wonderful.” Harry leaned into Draco. “Molly, I’ll bet you’ve outdone yourself this year.”
“Of course, because you missed Christmas with us last year and I had to make up for that!” Molly’s eyes twinkled. Draco half-expected a look of reproof since it was Draco’s job that took them to Rome for a year, but all he got was a smile before Molly went back to making silly faces at Rosalie.
“Let me have a turn with her,” Arthur said, taking the baby from Molly. Harry reached over and removed Rosalie’s knitted cap, allowing her dark curls to spill out.
“She’s such a looker.” Arthur chucked her under the chin. “We needed more girls in the family.”
Angelina, George’s wife, was busy herding their twin boys away from the potted plant where they’d been playing in the dirt, and Bill and Fleur’s three boys clamoured in from the back yard, letting a whoosh of cold air into the house.
“Oi! Close the door!” George yelled before nodding sagely. “Yes, we’re overrun with boys.”
“Come make yourself comfortable,” Charlie hollered from the living room. “George has concocted a holiday punch with bite! Have a cup or three!”
Harry took Draco’s hand, giving him a look that said it would probably be best to stay away from anything made by George, before following the others into the next room.
“Harry!” rang out again as Ginny Weasley jumped off some bloke’s lap to fling herself into Harry’s arms. Draco was well aware that Harry and Ginny broke up because Harry realised he was bent, but Draco couldn’t help but imagine that Ginny still might not like Draco very much. However, her smile seemed genuine enough when she turned to him a moment later and welcomed him to their home. Harry had tried to tell Draco that the Weasleys didn’t blame him for Fred’s death or any other terrible thing that happened in the war, but Draco found that hard to believe. His Dark Mark seemed to burn underneath his layers of clothing, and he wished for the millionth time that he could somehow be rid of it.
“We heard it was an accident that left her orphaned?” Molly said as she managed to pull Rosalie’s coat off while Arthur sat on the worn sofa bouncing Rosalie on his knee.
“Yes. A very unfortunate accident killed Rosalie's parents, who were both colleagues of Draco’s. Draco and I immediately put in to adopt her.” Harry sent Draco a smile that both warmed Draco’s heart and set something fluttering within his chest.
“And there was no problem with that?” Fleur asked, and Draco detected the tiniest amount of bite to her voice. When he looked at her, her eyes challenged his.
“None at all,” Harry said.
“I would think,” Fleur began, but just then Teddy ran into the room, flinging his arms about Draco’s knees.
“Can I go upstairs with the big boys, Papa?” his earnest little face shown up at Draco, and Draco ran a hand through the boy’s now-green hair.
“Certainly. But don’t be too rambunctious.” Draco smiled at Teddy’s exuberance as he whooped and ran up the rickety steps behind Bill’s lads.
“Papa said yes!”
Fleur cleared her throat to say something again, but this time Hermione interrupted.
“Shall I check the goose, Molly?”
“That would be wonderful, dear.”
“Would you help me, Fleur?”
Fleur got up and followed Hermione into the kitchen.
If Hermione planned to lecture Fleur about picking on Draco, Draco thought it was more than he deserved and she shouldn’t bother.
“Ignore Fleur, dear. She’ll come around.”
Draco turned to tell Molly that he didn’t blame Fleur for not trusting him and realized that she hadn’t been addressing him, but Harry, whose expression was livid.
“I didn’t expect anyone here to act like that.” Harry’s voice was tight. “Perhaps we should leave, Draco.”
Molly made a mournful noise and Arthur clutched Rosalie to him.
“Nonsense, Harry—“
“It isn’t nonsense to me if my husband isn’t treated well by my own family,” Harry said.
Draco took in the clearly upset faces around them and reached out for Harry’s hand.
“It’s all right, Harry. I can handle it.”
Harry’s eyes met Draco’s and he relaxed slightly. “You shouldn’t have to,” he said. “It’s Christmas.”
Draco momentarily forgot about everyone else and leaned in and kissed Harry’s cheek. “I’ll be fine.”
When he turned back to the couch, Molly’s eyes were on him, soft and motherly. It made Draco feel bare and confused, and a blush heated his cheeks.
Thankfully, a crash from upstairs drew everyone’s attention, and Harry and George took off up the steps to see what had happened.
“Fleur’s parents were killed in the war,” Molly said to Draco. “She’s just deflecting.”
Draco nodded, unsure of what to say. It had been a long time since the war—seemed it was time to put it to rest, but again and again he found that some people simply couldn’t or didn’t know how.
Soon it was time to eat, and everyone somehow managed to squeeze in around the table in the warm kitchen. It was different than any meal Draco had ever participated in, but not too objectionable if he put aside his need for table manners and fine cuisine. Fleur continued to send Draco looks that said he wasn’t fit to live, much less eat with them or be married to Harry; but by this time Draco was an old pro at ignoring animosity and deflecting ill-will.
Fortunately Harry was busy feeding Rosalie and didn’t see half of it, and Draco really had his own hands full keeping Teddy’s plate full and making sure he ate a few vegetables in between meat and potatoes. Harry had adopted Teddy long ago when Andromeda died, and Draco had put in for adoption for him shortly after Draco and Harry were wed. He felt like the boy’s father now, and couldn’t love him any more than he did. He smiled down at Teddy’s shining face; he was obviously happy to be amongst his cousins.
After the meal, everyone agreed to wait a respectable time before digging into the array of desserts lined up on the sideboard, and retired to the living room where Christmas carols played on an old record player. A sleeping Rosalie cradled against his chest, thumb firmly planted in her mouth, Draco watched the lights blink on the crooked tree in the corner, its branches loaded down with hand-made baubles.
Harry lay his head on Draco’s shoulder and sighed contentedly.
“Happy?” Draco asked him, looking down at the familiarly messy head of hair.
“Unbelievably,” Harry answered, one hand sliding over Draco’s thigh to come to rest on his knee.
“Daddy,” Teddy’s head popped up from behind the couch. “Can I open a present when we get home? Just one?”
“You say just one, but it will turn into two or three,” Harry said.
“No, just one, I promise!” Teddy bounced about behind the couch.
“We’ll see,” Harry said.
“That means no,” Bill’s oldest boy, Gus, said knowingly.
“It only means I need to think about it,” Harry said.
“That means no, too,” Gus said as the two scampered off.
“What do you think?” Harry asked Draco.
“I seem to recall the words ‘never again,’ coming from your mouth last year,” Draco said, positioning Rosalie more comfortably on his chest. Her thumb had fallen out of her mouth, and Harry reached for her soft purple blanket, covering her with it.
“He’s a year older now,” Harry said. “Better able to stick with just one and wait until morning for the others.”
Draco sighed. “You are such a push-over, Potter.”
Harry grinned. “But you love me for it.”
Draco’s lips twitched. “I do.”
“He’ll forget about it anyway by the end of the night.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Draco said. “The boy’s going to be a Slytherin—I can tell.”
Across the room, Bill and Fleur seemed to be bickering. Fleur got up from where they’d been sitting by the tree and flounced out of the room.
“Maybe we should go soon,” Draco said. “I don’t want to ruin their family Christmas.”
“She’s the one ruining it for them,” Harry said, putting his head back onto Draco’s shoulder.
“I can’t help feeling I don’t belong here.”
Harry lifted his head, green eyes steely. “If I belong here, you belong here.” He didn’t look away until Draco gave him a nod. “All right, then.” Harry snuggled under Draco’s free arm.
Later, after Draco had tasted more pies than he’d ever cared to taste in his life, he heard Harry’s voice raised in anger. Unable to help himself, Draco inched closer to the door of the back porch to listen.
“I don’t know how you could marry him!” Fleur’s accent was unmistakable. “Harry, you know what it’s like to lose your parents to evil!”
“Draco did not kill your parents, Fleur; the sooner you realise that, the better. He was a kid who found himself on the wrong side of things. Let it go.”
“I can’t let it go!” Fleur screeched. “How can you raise children with a Death Eater?”
“Shut your mouth.” The steel in Harry’s voice brought up the hairs at the back of Draco’s neck. “Draco is my husband and I won’t have you speaking about him in that way. This is my family, too, Fleur, and you aren’t running me out of here.”
“Not you, Harry. I have no problem with you.”
“If you have a problem with Draco, you have a problem with me.”
Draco had just enough time to step into the shadows before Harry strode through the door and out of the kitchen.
Draco walked out onto the porch, and Fleur looked up. “Spying? Why am I not surprised?”
“A Slytherin trait,” Draco said. He pushed his hands down into his trouser pockets. “Listen, for Harry’s sake, I’d like to get along. I’m sorry about your parents. I lost mine, too.”
“In an act of justice,” Fleur said, and Draco bristled.
“By all rights, you should have been in that explosion,” Fleur continued. “Harry would be better off without you.”
“Maybe,” Draco shrugged, pushing away the animosity her words engendered. “But I wasn’t in it, and I am with Harry. Are you going to make things uncomfortable every time we’re together? Because unless you’re planning on leaving Bill, we will be again and again in future.”
Fleur tossed her head and looked out over the snow-covered fields outside the glassed-in porch.
“I hate to see Harry unhappy,” Draco said.
“Then you shouldn’t have married him.”
Draco couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped his lips. “Oddly enough, I seem to make Harry happy. I had to admit that to myself some time ago.”
Fleur’s chuckle was brittle. “He’s mad, then.”
“A little bit,” Draco said. Fleur looked at him.
“All right. A truce, then. For Harry.”
Draco dipped his head. “For Harry.”
“What the hell did you do to Fleur?” Harry asked later after they’d said their goodbyes and stood in the foyer bundling up the children.
“I simply worked my Slytherin charm on her,” Draco said.
Harry laughed and took Teddy’s hand. Outside the clouds had cleared and stars shown in the frigid night sky for miles around. They stood looking at them for a few moments, Draco pointing out the most prominent constellations to Teddy, before the cold got to them and they headed for the gate.
“One present,” Teddy said over a drawn-out yawn.
“I told you so,” Draco said, shifting Rosalie to the other arm.
Harry grinned.
“Happy Christmas,” he said, hoisting Teddy into his arms.
They Apparated home.