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It was winter hols and Draco’s husband thought the best use of their time was a ski trip. Draco had put his vote in for shopping in Paris down the Avenue des Champs-Élysées but was convinced that skiing in winter would be more “fun”. They’d compromised and Harry promised to go to Paris for their next holiday, with the additional stipulation that Draco had his shopping limit waived. Draco knew he had the better of the bargain; Harry was going to deeply regret the lack of limit on Draco’s spending. But still, skiing first.
Harry came waddling up to Draco in his ski attire. He looked both ridiculous and attractive in his getup and it was a combination that annoyed Draco to no end. But when Harry smiled at him, all annoyance was forgiven.
“You ready, love?” he asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” Draco replied.
After some basic lessons, they made slow progress on the bunny slopes. Draco refused to try a higher difficulty slope where he was more likely to fall on his face. But he could admit that, once he got the hang of it, skiing was fun.
When they retired for the day, Draco snuggled into thick blankets in their cabin while Harry stoked the fire. It was a beautiful scene out their window of the back of the mountain with snow lightly falling. Draco sipped the cocoa Harry provided him and made room in his blanket fort for his husband to snuggle in beside him.
“What do you want to do tomorrow?"
“I hear there’s a Christmas market in the town at the foot of the mountain.”
Which is how Draco found himself walking a muggle market the following evening. Even though they were muggles, the scene felt magical. The lights. The music from an unseen source. The laughter and joy he could feel in the air. It reminded Draco of walking Hogsmeade during the Christmas season when they were still in school.
“Oh Harry, look!” Draco said, dragging Harry to a nearby street vendor.
They were selling an array of small gifts, but what caught Draco’s eye was a music box playing a song Draco hadn’t heard since his childhood. He could almost hear the tune in his mother’s lilting voice.
“That’s beautiful, Draco,” he heard.
Which is when Draco realized he’d been singing along.
“Yes, it is.”
They spent an hour or so in the market before Draco’s heating charms stopped being warm enough for him. They returned to their cabin for more cocoa and time alone. There was something about making love in an oversize bed with snow gently falling outside your window. The cuddling and the laughter afterward.
They awoke the next morning to a calm Christmas Day and an exchange of gifts. Harry was delighted with the various presents he received from Draco, notably the new broom he’d been eyeing. But Draco’s favourite gift was the little music box he’d shown Harry the day before. It really was a good holiday.