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Draco is not going to cry.
Three years into the healthiest relationship he has ever been in and two years into celebrating the holidays with the Weasleys, Draco has come to realize that he cannot expect anything from these people. They will always surprise him with their capacity for both chaos and kindness in equal measure.
Growing up, Christmas at Malfoy Manor had always been a quiet affair. Tasteful yuletide decor, traditional hymns and carols playing at a low volume over the wireless and every gift Draco had requested waiting for him underneath a picture-perfect tree decorated with only the most delicate baubles and oldest family heirloom ornaments. The house elves had always prepared a perfectly delicious roast followed by equally delicious trifle for pudding.
In earlier years, Draco had always especially looked forward to his and Narcissa’s annual visit with Aunt Andy at the rustic little cottage on the seaside. Still a quiet affair, but without Lucius around, Draco had been free to experience and enjoy the muggle Christmas customs of Aunt Andy’s husband. It hadn’t lasted more than a couple of years, but Draco had never forgotten watching A Christmas Carol with his cousin on the telly at no more than five years old.
Now, his Christmas still consists of the quiet, conservative affair at the Manor, but that is only a small part of it since taking up with Harry. When Draco and Harry had begun dating about three years prior, Draco had expected it to run its course rather quickly. He had anticipated the saviour of the wizarding world to tire of him before long or to decide that the baggage that came with dating the infamous Draco Malfoy would prove to be more than Harry was willing to deal with.
How wrong he had been.
Draco is still uncertain of how deserving he is to be allowed to share life and even a home with one as deeply good as Harry Potter, but for his part, Harry seems to know this and takes every opportunity to prove to Draco how worthy he is of love and happiness, despite the things that he may have done.
For Draco, the most unexpected part of his relationship with Harry had been the Weasleys. He had been more than apprehensive about his prospective reception last year when Harry had told him that Molly Weasley had extended an invitation for him to join them for Christmas at the Burrow. He had assumed that she was only being polite for Harry’s sake since he had been in a relationship for the better part of two years at that point, but Harry had firmly shut the idea down when Draco had voiced it. He had insisted that Molly asked after Draco constantly and had made Harry promise to ensure Draco knew that he was more than welcome in their home.
Draco had spent the entire week leading up to that first Christmas at the Burrow in a haze of anxiety and trepidation. When the time finally came, he was stiff and awkward and planned to keep as quiet and out of the way as possible. The Weasleys would have none of it. From the moment he set foot inside of the cozy, overstuffed home, he had been assaulted by various Weasleys who wanted to talk much too loudly about Draco’s work or slap him on the back much too hard. Ron and Hermione had acted as a welcome buffer when Harry had been otherwise occupied by the festivities and unable to act as Draco’s anchor.
Molly had taken it upon herself to fuss over Draco, insisting that he was much too thin and needed extra servings of Christmas roast or mince pie. It was all hugely overwhelming and Draco had been left dazed and uncomfortably full of both food and affection later that night when he and Harry had returned home.
This year, after becoming a regular at Sunday lunch and coming to feel entirely welcome in their home, Draco is sat on the hearthrug next to Harry as everyone opens the final gifts of the evening. Draco had been sure to purchase everyone as special a gift as he could manage with the help of Harry, Ron and Hermione. He had even braved a busy muggle shopping centre on a quest to find Arthur’s gift and it had been predictably harrowing.
“This one has your name on it, mate,” Ron says, dropping a squashy gift wrapped in Slytherin green paper into Draco’s lap. Draco turns the parcel over in his hands and is somehow still surprised to find his name printed neatly on the tag, despite the warning.
He had already received a lovely box set of spell books from Ron and Hermione - entirely Hermione’s idea, Draco is certain of it - a gag gift from George straight from the Weasley Wizard Wheezes catalogue, a signed Holyhead Harpies quaffle from Ginevra - clearly also meant as a gag, considering Draco’s support for the Falcons - a lovely chiffon scarf from one of his favourite Parisian outfitters from William and Fleur - absolutely Fleur’s doing, Draco is certain of this as well - a smart set of quills from Percival and a pair of dragon hide gloves from Charles. Arthur had presented him with a rather delicate looking muggle music box and Harry had insisted that Draco open his gifts only once they returned home, so Draco has no idea what to expect from this final mystery gift.
Pulling back the paper carefully, Draco is met with the softest knit jumper he has probably ever owned. The yarn used happens to be in his favourite shade of blue and he admires the stitch work as he unfolds it for closer inspection. In the centre of the jumper is a capital letter ‘D’ knit in a lavender grey yarn that compliments the shade of blue of the rest of the jumper perfectly.
He freezes in shock at the realization of what it is.
***
Draco is going to cry.
As soon as Molly cornered Harry in the kitchen one Sunday months ago asking about Draco’s favourite colour, Harry had known that Draco would be receiving a Weasley jumper at Christmas. He helped Molly find the perfect shade of blue and then began to contemplate whether or not he thought it would be best to warn Draco ahead of time.
Harry knows that Draco struggles with feeling worthy of the happiness that he has found years after the war, especially when it comes to the Weasleys. He feels guilt over the terrible things that his father did to Ginny and Arthur. He feels guilt over the scars that Bill and Ron were left with. He feels guilt over the fact that Molly had to kill his mad aunt in defence of her only daughter. He feels guilt that one of them never got to return home after the final battle. These are all things that Draco had no real part in and that the Weasleys have never held against him, but Harry also knows that guilt does not work on a logical basis.
Harry is also aware of the fact that everyone has placed bets on what reaction Draco will have to receiving his very own Official Weasley Jumper and he has been rather afraid of how Ginny and George might respond to having their betting pool fixed. In this family, bets are really only placed on those who have been formally accepted into the fold. It’s one of the ways that the Weasley siblings show their love.
Harry hears conversations begin to drop out around the room and watches heads turn as Draco, the final person with a gift to unwrap, begins to open his jumper. The room is silent but for the snapping and crackling of logs on the fire and the murmured conversation of Arthur and Molly. Draco picks the jumper up and holds it out in front of himself, looking slightly dazed.
“Oi! Why's his so nice?” Ron complains loudly, eyeing Draco’s jumper from across the room with obvious envy.
“And why’s it so soft?” Ginny adds, tweaking the hem on her way past as she heads for the kitchen and the mulled wine waiting there for her.
“It’s Alpaca,” Molly says matter-of-factly, looking distinctly pleased. The room is quiet for another moment and Harry shuffles a bit closer to Draco as he continues to stare at the jumper in his hands, unmoving.
“Well? Is he crying?” Ginny’s voice carries from the kitchen, breaking the silence. It seems to also bring Draco back from the moment he had been having because suddenly his head whips up and he fixes Harry with a damp glare.
“No, he’s not,” Draco grits out, eyes rimmed with red and narrowing more by the second as his glare intensifies. Harry freezes for a moment, wondering if he has misjudged the outcome of the situation, and then all at once Draco’s face crumples and great tears begin rolling down his cheeks. Harry nearly sighs with relief as he gathers Draco up in his arms and guides his face into the crook of his neck. Draco shudders and gasps quietly against Harry's shoulder, jumper still grasped tightly in his hands as Harry rubs soothing circles into his back.
“Bollocks,” Harry hears Ron mumble.
“Oh, sick,” Ginny hums, reentering the room with two fresh glasses of wine and eyeing Draco in Harry's arms appreciatively. Handing one of the glasses off to Luna and receiving a grateful peck on the cheek for her efforts, she reclaims her seat on the sofa next to George and exchanges a subtle high five with him.
“Pay up, dear family!” George chirps happily, settling back into the sofa with his arm draped around Angelina. Harry watches with amusement as Ron, Percy, Bill and Angelina withdraw a couple of galleons each, displaying varying degrees of chagrin at the outcome. The coins are passed around the room as Draco finally begins to collect himself. Swiping at his eyes briskly, Draco takes a shaky breath and then exhales steadily before turning his attention rather sulkily to his jumper.
“All right, Malfoy?” Charlie asks. Draco does not immediately respond, choosing instead to slowly and carefully fold his new jumper into a neat square and arrange it on his folded knees before casting a resigned glare around the room at large.
“You all are horrible for betting against me.” he declares. George and Ginny outright laugh at that as they count their galleons, shoulder-to-shoulder. Draco turns his pout on Harry, who melts a little at the still shiny quality to his grey eyes.
Circling his arm around Draco's shoulders and pulling him close again, Harry plants a kiss on the side of his blonde head. “It means they've accepted you.” he says quietly against his temple.
“Merlin, if this is how they treat those they've accepted, I shudder to think how they might treat anyone they actually like.” Draco murmurs, lips curving into a soft smile.
Harry can tell that Draco is deeply touched and slightly overwhelmed by the entire situation, so when Bill and Fleur begin doing their goodbye rounds shortly thereafter, he offers him an escape. After he and Harry say goodbye to everyone, Molly takes Draco’s arm and leads him to the kitchen, insisting that he allow her to pack him leftovers to take home.
“Did you know he would cry?” Ron asks Harry only slightly accusingly as they enter the kitchen a few minutes later.
“I told you he would cry." Hermione says patiently from Ron's elbow.
“Well I knew he would cry, I just didn't think it would be here." Ron grumbles, no doubt lamenting his lost galleons.
“I think you all make him feel, well, loved.” Harry admits, casting a furtive glance towards the kitchen table where Molly is still busy packing up food and Draco is politely listening to her natter on as he obediently waits for said food.
“Well he is, for some reason,” Ron says with a grimace. Then, as an afterthought, adds, “At least by mum.”
“Don't pretend you don't think he's funny." Hermione raises an eyebrow at him and Ron heaves a put-upon sigh.
“Fine, alright. So long as he doesn't know that.”
“Hate to break it to you, mate,” Harry starts, placing a hand on Ron’s shoulder and giving him his most sympathy-filled look. “But, he definitely already knows.”
“Bloody hell, can one thing go my way around here? It’s Christmas, for Merlin’s sake.” Ron complains and Harry laughs as he tugs him into a tight hug.
“We love you, Harry.” Hermione says, accepting her own hug a moment later and batting Harry in the face with her voluminous afro bun.
“Ready to go?” Draco's voice comes from behind Harry and he releases Hermione, stepping back and directly into his chest.
“Yeah, sorry.” he steps to the side and Hermione replaces him immediately, wrapping her arms around Draco without preamble.
“I hope you had a happy Christmas, Draco." she says, voice muffled into his shoulder. Draco is holding his food in one hand and does a slightly awkward patting-hug with the other.
“It was lovely, thank you again for the books.” he says, glancing nervously at Harry as Hermione continues to squeeze him tightly, clearly not planning to let him go just yet. Harry just watches them, a bemused smile on his lips.
“Okay, ‘Mione,” Ron finally says after a moment, placing gentle hands on her shoulders and coaxing her off of Draco. She steps back, brown eyes alarmingly wet and links the fingers of one hand with Ron’s on her shoulder. “Happy Christmas, Draco.”
“Happy Christmas, Ron,” Draco says back, then adds, “Sorry you lost your galleons.”
“It was worth it to see you cry.” Ron smirks and then scowls when Hermione’s elbow catches him in the stomach. “It was happy crying, ‘Mione,” he mumbles, wrapping both arms around Hermione fully – effectively pinning her arms to her sides.
“I’ll be certain not to make a habit of it, then.” Draco says dryly.
Harry can't stop smiling as he leads Draco to the floo and they step through together. He is still smiling to himself when Draco comes to their room after putting the food away and immediately puts his new jumper in the wardrobe, handling it with the care one would a fragile heirloom or precious treasure.
Coming up behind him as he straightens up, Harry wraps his arms around Draco's waist and kisses the back of his neck. Draco releases a contented sigh and sinks back into his arms.
“Your family is positively unbelievable.” he murmurs.
“Our family,” Harry corrects, hooking his chin over Draco’s shoulder and looking at the jumpers on the top of the stacks at the bottom of the wardrobe. Side-by-side, one red, one blue. One emblazoned with a capital ‘H’, and now, one bearing a capital ‘D’. “You're one of us now.”
“Merlin help me.” Draco says, amusement in his voice.
Turning his head to the side, Draco captures Harry's lips in a gentle kiss. Beyond the warmth of their bedroom, snow falls steadily, blanketing the world in a silent purity.
Fin.