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Draco Malfoy was not enjoying his life these days. He had returned to Hogwarts for his “Eighth” Year only because it was one of the requirements for not going to Azkaban. He had suffered through an interminable year with Granger and a handful of others, while Longbottom and Potter became Aurors, Weasley made money hand-over-fist by helping his brother with that blasted joke shop, and the rest of their year went on to do various things. He had also watched as his father talked his way out of Azkaban by helping the Ministry roundup rogue Death Eaters. And then, while bitter jealousy clawed at his insides, Draco had watched from the sidelines as Weasley and Granger cemented their relationship with an engagement and Potter seemed to fall more in love with the littlest Weasley every day. The whole thing was sickening.
And now here it was, three years after the war had ended, and everything was “perfect” for the whole bloody world. Except for Draco. Draco Malfoy, who had the remains of the Dark Mark forever scarring his left forearm. Draco Malfoy, who couldn’t find a job if his life depended on it, so thank goodness for the fact that not even war-reparations could make a dent in the Malfoy fortune. Draco Malfoy, who couldn’t even bring himself to sleep in his own home and thus had abandoned his parents to the Manor’s gloom to rent a small flat in London. Draco Malfoy, who had all but retreated from Wizarding Society.
The only person he ever spoke to anymore – besides his parents – was Pansy and even she seemed to be getting fed up with him and his constant moping. And Draco couldn’t blame her. The only time he left his flat was for the occasional shopping trip and those were getting fewer and further between. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been on a date, though he did go to a Muggle club a short-ways away at least once every couple of weeks for the sole-purpose of pulling. After all, introverted recluse or not, he had needs. But Pansy was settling happily into what seemed to be a whirlwind courtship with George Weasley – and really, who could have seen that coming? Because Draco certainly hadn’t – and so she had less patience for Draco’s misery with every passing day.
Which was why he was utterly surprised by Pansy’s owl delivering a letter on the 23rd of December. He was nearly-positive that she wasn’t inviting him to some insipid Weasley Christmas celebration, but he was still a little wary as he took the scroll. The owl immediately swooped back out the window, letting Draco know that his best friend was not expecting a response. Which confirmed that it wasn’t an invitation of any sort. Invitations required RSVP’s after all.
Still, Draco opened the letter a little warily. One never knew quite what to expect from Pansy. His brow furrowed at her words.
‘Draco, darling, you know how much I love you. You are the dearest person in my life – besides George, of course – and my oldest, best friend. And because of this, I am doing you the biggest, most ridiculous, insane, impossible, perfect favor imaginable. I won’t explain just now, but be home tomorrow at 5pm (and yes, I know it’s Christmas Eve; I also know you’ve got nowhere better to be) because I’m sending you a present at that time. I love you. Please try not to be so sad. ~ Pan’
Well, that was interesting. Draco was tempted, for the briefest of moments, to make sure he wasn’t home at the specified time. Just because he enjoyed being contrary, after all. But Pansy really did love him; Draco didn’t doubt that for a second. And he loved her just as much. Which was why he tolerated the fact that she was letting a ginger shag her; the ginger in question made her happy, after all, and nothing else mattered to Draco.
It didn’t hurt that George was the least-objectionable Weasley Draco had ever met, though he hadn’t yet met the two oldest ones. It also didn’t hurt that George’s business did quite well, which meant that Pansy wouldn’t lack for anything. And George was considered a war-hero; one of the highly-praised Order of the Phoenix. It helped to gloss-over some of the taint that still clung to Pansy. And anything that made Pansy’s life easier was perfectly acceptable to Draco.
So he wouldn’t ruin her present for him. He’d be home, waiting, just as she’d ordered. There weren’t many people he trusted, but Pansy was one of them, so he’d trust that she really had gotten him something wonderful.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When the knock sounded on his door at just a few minutes before five on Christmas Eve, Draco was just finishing getting dressed after a long, hot shower. His hair was still-damp and tousled from the towel he’d been ruffling over it to dry it. He was dressed in a soft, emerald-green cashmere sweater that had the sleeves shoved up to his elbows and black slacks, his feet still bare. A fire was crackling merrily in the living room, where Pansy had insisted he put up a tree and garland and all manner of frivolous holiday things.
Draco padded down the hallway from the bathroom, calling out. “Coming!” He didn’t want whoever was at the door to disappear.
Draco crossed the living-room, rolling his eyes at the decorations again. Then he stepped into the small entryway, wincing a little as the plush, white carpet gave way to hardwood flooring that was ice-cold against his skin. He tugged open the door, a relaxed smile curving his lips for whomever the delivery person was. It froze on his face – feeling suddenly wooden and unnatural – when he saw the man standing in front of him, looking nervous. Draco couldn’t quite make it make sense.
Comfortable-looking, faded jeans hugged long, lean legs. A skin-tight white tee-shirt emphasized lightly-tanned skin as it clung to broad shoulders, a well-muscled chest, and a flat stomach. Beat-up trainers – coated in snow from outside – were casually dripping water on the hallway’s carpet. But what was utterly shocking to Draco was the wind-blown black hair that was falling into eyes the same vivid green as Draco’s sweater.
“Potter?” Draco’s disbelieving tone might have been considered rude, except that he hadn’t been aware the Chosen One even knew he lived in London, let alone where in London. And he was pretty sure Potter belonged at the Weasley get-together that was happening; that was where Pansy was, with George, and Potter was dating the Weaslette so it stood to reason he would be there as well.
“Er…hi.” Harry cleared his throat and held out a scroll. It was entirely nondescript except for the single, emerald-green, silk ribbon that was wrapped around it. “I’m supposed to give this to you…”
Draco took it, frowning. The ribbon was the same sort Pansy always attached to his birthday and Christmas gifts. Draco tugged on the ribbon and his eyes widened as it snapped to life; something it had never done in the past. It hovered in the air, twisting and writhing like a snake. Harry’s eyes were just as wide as Draco’s, staring at the ribbon, and Draco shook his head to clear it before unrolling the scroll. It was best just to see what she wanted.
‘Draco, darling, I’m sure you’re confused. But remember that I love you and that I only have your best interests at heart. And remember that I know you better than anyone else does. I know exactly what you’ve always wanted; I’ve known since we were in First Year. So I’m giving it to you…in a manner of speaking. I’ve arranged for you to have the entire evening; do with that what you will. I’m hoping this will get you to stop moping. I love you. ~ Pan’
As soon as Draco read Pansy’s signature – his mouth slack with surprise – the ribbon jumped into action again. It zipped over to Harry and wound its way around his throat. On the right side, just below his jaw, it tied itself into a complicated bow made of many little loops; it looked precisely as it did on every present Draco had received from Pansy for all of their lives.
The scroll dropped from Draco’s fingers and he was literally trembling all over. He also couldn’t seem to draw a proper breath. Harry’s fingers had moved to his throat, ghosting over the ribbon. Then a soft smile curved his lips and he muttered affectionately. “She ought to have warned me it was going to do that. I almost screamed like a girl.”
Draco took a shaking breath and whispered. “What…what did Pansy tell you?”
Harry tipped his head to the side slightly; the gesture was strange and not one Draco could ever remember seeing Harry make while they were in school. Then he said hesitantly. “She didn’t say much. She just asked me to deliver the scroll and spend the evening with you. And she said I didn’t need to be worried about you hexing me.”
Draco’s eyes widened as it clicked. Of course Harry Potter was off at the Weasley family get-together with the stupid bint who was most-likely his fiancée by now. Draco couldn’t be positive about an engagement, of course; he’d stopped reading the paper a few months before. But it seemed likely. And of course Pansy knew he’d wanted Harry; she was, as she’d said, his best friend. And she was a Slytherin who was dating a Weasley, which meant she was likely around Harry Potter. And really, how hard would it be to obtain a hair or two from the Savior if you were around him all the time?
Draco’s lips curved up as he realized that he could have – for a single evening at least – a chance to live out every single fantasy he’d ever had involving Harry Potter. His voice was a seductive purr as he stepped back from the doorway and gestured. “Come in, Harry.”
“Er…okay. Thanks.” Harry’s fingers were still fiddling with the ribbon as he stepped into the entryway and let Draco shut and lock the door behind him. Then he toed off his wet trainers before he followed Draco into the living room, looking around with interest. “This is nice. Festive.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Pansy’s idea, not mine.” He wasn’t sure why he was bothering with small-talk and pleasantries; some Polyjuiced prostitute hired by Pansy hardly required it. But it was part of the thrill; part of the fantasy. “Would you like a drink?”
“Oh, well…” Harry – or the man wearing his skin, at least – hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose. What do you have?”
“You let me worry about that. I’m sure I can find something you’ll like.” Draco returned, turning and moving over to the small bar set up to one side of the room. “You just have a seat; relax.”
He heard Harry moving around behind him as he pulled out two highball glasses. Into Harry’s, he put ice, orange juice, and amaretto; it would be sweet and smooth, so he felt that the man could handle it without gagging. His own drink was bourbon, bitters, and vermouth – a Manhattan. He turned around and stared in shock. Harry wasn’t sitting on the sofa; instead, he was standing in front of the fireplace, holding a small snow globe. It contained a miniature replica of Hogwarts and the snow fell in a steady stream while little lights burned in the castle’s windows.
He looked up sheepishly when he felt Draco’s eyes on him. “Sorry. It’s lovely, though.” His lips curved up and he added. “I’ve always had a soft-spot for Hogwarts, you know. Where did you get it from?”
Draco smirked; Pansy had at least made sure the man in question knew what to say. “It was a gift from...an old family friend. It’s a one-of-a-kind, if I remember correctly.” His voice lowered a little and he added silkily. “Perhaps, if you’re very nice tonight, I’ll give it to you. For Christmas.”
Harry’s eyes widened in shock and he carefully set the little glass sphere back on the mantle. “But, if it was a gift...I mean, I couldn’t possibly...”
“Relax.” Draco held out Harry’s drink to him, then took a seat on the black leather sofa. “It was from someone I hold no fondness for; it’s only on display because Pansy felt it was appropriately festive for this time of year.”
Harry tipped his head to the side, wondering just who had given the little snow globe to Draco, then decided it didn’t much matter. He’d promised Pansy he would do his best to get along with her best friend and he was going to do just that. He thought it was a bit odd that she’d spelled a ribbon around his throat, of course, but it was just so her - with just a hint of George to it - that he found he couldn’t even be mad. And if she thought he made a suitable gift for Draco, well, Harry wasn’t going to argue. There was a reason he wasn’t at the Weasley’s house, after all.
He and Ginny had split two months earlier - just after Pansy had begun dating George, actually. And it had been entirely Harry’s fault they’d split. He and Ginny had been out, dancing and drinking with friends, having a good time. And some fit bloke - Harry wasn’t even sure of his name and, to be honest, he hadn’t even gotten a good look at the man besides a glimpse of blonde hair - had pressed Harry into a wall and thoroughly snogged him. Ginny had come upon them just as Harry was kissing the man back and, well, that had been the end of things between them.
Ginny had been surprisingly kind about it all, after her initial screaming fit. Which, in all honesty, Harry couldn’t blame her for. Once she’d calmed down, she’d said she couldn’t be with him if she couldn’t be assured that she was enough for him. And since he apparently had a thing for men as well as women - something he’d never known before that man had kissed him - she felt he ought to explore that part of himself before settling down. She’d kissed his cheek and promised she’d happily try again if he decided that was what he wanted to do - and if she wasn’t settled with someone else because, really, she couldn’t just wait around forever.
And though she had insisted his presence at Christmas wouldn’t be at all uncomfortable for her, it would have been uncomfortable for him. Whenever he and Ginny were in the same room as Molly, she stared at Harry as though hoping he would suddenly throw himself at Ginny’s feet and declare her to be the only thing he’d ever need. It was awkward, to say the very least. It was made worse by his sudden realization that not only was Ginny beautiful, but her older brothers were all quite fit...and Charlie was gay and currently unattached. And though Ginny had been understanding and sweet, Harry was pretty sure her acceptance wouldn’t extend to him eyeing-up her dragon-taming brother over Christmas pudding.
So he would do as Pansy asked; he would give Draco a chance to be friends. And if the gorgeous Slytherin managed that, perhaps he could find a way to steal a kiss. Surely Pansy’s decorations had included mistletoe, right? Harry took a sip of the drink Draco had made him and was surprised to find it smooth and sweet and quite enjoyable. He took another sip and moved to sit next to Draco on the couch.
Harry was startled when Draco shifted closer to him; his eyes widened and he pulled back slightly. “Er...this is really good. Thanks.” He mumbled it under his breath, bringing the glass to his lips again.
Draco was startled when Harry pulled back and frowned, setting his own drink aside. “So, Pansy just said you’re to spend the evening with me?” He demanded, determined to understand all of the things that weren’t adding up; such as the way “Harry” had been staring at him in silence for a few minutes after being handed his drink.
“Er, yeah.” Harry shrugged, then stretched forward to place his own drink on a small, decorative coaster on the coffee table. “She said you’d be alone and since I wasn’t going to the Weasleys because...” He faltered for a moment, his cheeks pink, then muttered darkly. “Well. Yes. Because.”
“Because...?” Draco asked, quirking an eyebrow; he wanted to know what, precisely, the other man was going to say so he could decide if he believed it or not. “I don’t read the paper, you know. Had a falling out with the Weasel again?”
Harry’s cheeks flushed a darker red and he brought up one hand to rub nervously at the back of his neck. “I, ah...no. Gin and I aren’t together anymore, though, so it makes things...weird. We’re still friends, which is great, but you’ve got to expect some significant time apart when your girlfriend catches you with some bloke’s tongue down your throat.”
Draco’s eyes had widened again, then his smirk was back. Pansy had done a good job; she’d clearly invented this entire backstory just for him. Which was terribly sweet of her. Draco made a mental note to offer to buy her whatever ridiculously-expensive gown she would no doubt want for her wedding when George eventually proposed. “Of course.” Draco drawled, forcing himself to look sympathetic. “That had to have been quite awkward for you both.”
Harry laughed nervously, shrugging. “Yeah, I suppose. It was more embarrassing than anything else. She screamed and threw one of her shoes at me, right there in the bar, in front of everyone.” He gave Draco a self-deprecating smile and added. “She calmed down later and apologized, but it was pretty horrifying at the time. I was rea-mmmph!”
Harry’s words cut themselves off as Draco’s mouth was quite-suddenly attached to his own. Green eyes widened as Draco’s tongue pressed into his open mouth, curling up to lick at the roof of his mouth. For a brief moment, Harry was frozen with shock. Then his eyes fluttered shut and he whimpered softly, leaning into the kiss. It was hot and slick and a little sloppy, but Harry didn’t care because it was Draco Malfoy, who Harry had realized he’d had a crush on for years almost as soon as he’d realized he liked blokes at all.
Then one of Draco’s hands stroked his thigh and Harry’s eyes flew open again. He turned his face away, his hands shoving at Draco’s shoulders. When the blonde drew back, looking annoyed, Harry gasped out. “I think that’s...a little fast, yeah? I mean...I’ve not even been here for twenty minutes yet! That’s...we hated each other for years. And you’re fit, but I’m not...I mean, I won’t just...” He trailed off when he realized Draco was staring at him in horror. “What?”
“Potter?” Draco was gaping at him in absolute horror, which didn’t make any sense to Harry. Hadn’t they already been over his identity when Draco opened the door?
“I’m pretty sure you asked me that already.” Harry muttered, giving Draco a funny look. “Why are you suddenly confused about my name?”
“You’re...I mean, you’re actually...you?” Draco wasn’t sure his question actually made sense, but he couldn’t seem to form anything more coherent.
“Er...yeah.” Harry was still looking at Draco as though worried the former-Slytherin had lost his mind. “Who else would I be?”
Draco’s cheeks flushed and he looked away. Harry’s eyes widened as he put together Draco’s actions since his arrival. The way he’d been shocked to see Harry. The way he’d looked utterly stunned while reading Pansy’s letter. The way he’d stared at the ribbon still encircling Harry’s throat. The way he’d suddenly changed his behavior towards Harry, becoming suddenly friendly and even a little intimate in his tone of voice. And then his sudden shock and horror and his re-questioning of Harry’s identity. Harry thought about all of these things, then added Slytherin-thinking to the mix - both Draco’s and, quite possibly, Pansy’s. He was an Auror, after all, even if he’d only just finished his training, and he was very good at figuring out puzzles and mysteries.
When it clicked for him and he realized what Draco had assumed, his whole face flushed and he began to stammer. “You...you thought that I...that I was...oh my god!”
“Shut up, Potter!” Draco’s whole face was burning and he swiftly buried it in his hands. His voice was filled with mortification as he added. “Just...go. Please. We’ll just...pretend this never happened, alright? And please - for Salazar’s sake - please don’t mention this to Pansy. She’ll never let me live it down.”
Harry hesitated for a moment, considering everything, then placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder. When the blonde flinched but lifted his head, grey eyes locking with green, Harry asked softly. “Why would you think Pansy would send you a...er...professional? Especially one that...well, that was Polyjuiced to look like me?”
Draco’s mouth opened and shut a few times. He wasn’t sure how to answer that. But Harry didn’t look angry; he actually seemed curious and almost hopeful. So Draco dropped his eyes and muttered. “She said she was giving me what I’d always wanted...”
Harry’s lips curved instantly upwards and he carefully reached out and touched Draco’s chin, tipping the other man’s face back up. Draco blinked startled grey eyes at him and Harry leaned in, brushing their lips together. When he pulled back after only the briefest touch, Draco’s eyes had fluttered shut and his breathing had deepened and his mouth had gone soft and slack. Harry let his thumb drag over that full, pouty bottom lip and smiled slightly when Draco shivered all over.
“Draco...” Draco opened his eyes and looked at Harry, who smiled back. “I am not a prostitute. And I am not Polyjuiced. I am also not going to have sex with you tonight.” When Draco started to speak, Harry moved his hand so his palm was pressed over Draco’s mouth, silencing him. “I would, however, love to have dinner with you some time. Or coffee. Or see a movie. Or...or whatever.”
Harry moved his palm away and Draco drawled. “Well, as much as your refusal to immediately succumb to my charms is bothersome...” Draco hesitated for a moment, then smiled. Feeling hopeful for the first time in years, he finished. “I would enjoy having dinner with you.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
One Year Later:
It was a week before Christmas and Harry was sitting on the floor of the sitting room in his London flat, tied up in a tangled mess of lights, cursing viciously. “Who packed these bloody things? Isn’t there a spell for this? I swear, sometimes it’s like magic is useless!”
“There, there, love.” Pansy patted his head as she walked behind him, the large diamond on her finger winking cheerfully as it caught the lamplight and tossed it back. “We use fairy lights, which is why there’s no spell for it. If you want to go that route...”
“No.” Harry muttered obstinately, going back to untangling the insanity that was his Christmas lights. “I like Muggle lights, which is why this is a Muggle flat with electricity.”
George chuckled from where he was draping garland along the fireplace’s mantel, where stockings were already hanging. “You could always buy new lights.” He pointed out as he fussed with the greenery. “Then you could just chuck those in the bin and call it a night.”
“That would be like...like admitting defeat.” Harry said, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine. I refuse to let some stupid lights beat me. I’ll get them sorted out.”
“Before the holiday?” Pansy teased as she delivered a glass of eggnog to George and stole a quick kiss from her fiancé. She couldn’t wait until the wedding in May; she’d have had a shorter engagement, but she’d wanted to make sure everything was absolutely perfect for her - that is, their - special day. And perfection took time.
“Ha ha ha.” Harry snarked from his spot on the floor, though he was smiling fondly at her. “You know, it would go faster if I had another pair of hands.”
“Oh poo.” Pansy pursed her lips, but kicked off her heels and curled up on the carpet next to Harry. Her small, elegant hands - capped with a perfect manicure in red-and-white candy cane striping just for the holiday season - began to tug at the green wires with their little glass bulbs. “You’re lucky I like you so much, darling. This is tedious. I’m only supposed to be supervising.”
A low, husky laugh sounded from the doorway and Harry’s head snapped up, his whole face lighting up as a wide grin blossomed. “Draco!” He shoved his way free from the lights and practically flew across the room to kiss the new arrival. “You said you wouldn’t be back for another few days! What happened?”
“We wrapped things up a little early.” Draco explained, pulling Harry into his arms and burying his face in messy black hair, just breathing in the scent of Harry. Though he loved being a Cursebreaker and was grateful to Harry for helping him get the job, he hated the times he was away for work just as much as he hated when Harry was away on Auror missions. “So I’m home a bit earlier than planned. How have you been, love?”
“Mmmmm...missed you.” Harry murmured huskily as he nuzzled into Draco’s neck, not even caring that Draco’s skin was ice-cold from being outside. “I wanted to surprise you with the decorations, but now you can help us.”
“Oh goody.” Draco’s sarcasm was palpable as he rolled his eyes at Harry, but there was a softness to his eyes that gave away that he was teasing.
Harry laughed again and pulled out of Draco’s embrace, grabbing his hand and tugging. “Come on, then. You can help me and Pansy sort out these lights so we can get the tree done.”
Draco squeezed Harry’s hand but resisted the pull, bringing the other man up short. Harry turned back to him with a questioning look and Draco said quietly. “I’ve got something for you.”
Green eyes lit up and Harry moved closer to Draco again, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. “Oh really? Something fun? What is it? Is it for Christmas or can I have it now?”
Draco couldn’t contain his laughter; Harry’s enthusiasm was impossible to resist. “You can have it now.” He assured him, reaching into his pocket.
He pulled out a small black box, which had a green silk ribbon tied around it, and placed it carefully in Harry’s hand. Harry’s green eyes sparkled when he saw the ribbon and he let his fingers dance across it lightly. The previous year, he’d had the bow around his neck for two whole days before he’d gotten Pansy to release the spell; it still made him smile to think about it. Harry tugged the ribbon free and his eyes widened in surprise when it sprang to life and wrapped around Draco’s throat, tying itself into a bow.
Harry couldn’t help laughing, until he saw the solemn, nervous look on Draco’s face. Then his breath caught in his throat and he dropped his eyes to the tiny box balanced on his palm. His eyes grew impossibly wide and his mouth fell open in shock. Draco had put a bow on himself...and given Harry a small box...and...and oh...oh! With trembling fingers, he pried open the box and then he really couldn’t breath. His fingers went numb and the box slipped from his fingers.
Draco reached out and caught it quickly; he was still Seeker-fast, despite not having played Quidditch in more than a few years. “Harry?” Draco asked and his voice shook and broke a little on the end of Harry’s name; he’d never been so nervous in his life.
Harry looked up at Draco but all he could see was the contents of the box; a thin, platinum band, studded with emeralds all the way around. Knowing Draco needed an answer, Harry began to nod. Quite vigorously, in fact. “Yes!” He finally managed to gasp, feeling lightheaded in the best way. “God, Draco, yes! Of course, absolutely, yes.”
A relieved smile spread across Draco’s face and as he slipped the ring onto Harry’s trembling hand, Pansy squealed and George whooped. And when Draco pressed a tender kiss to Harry’s palm, Harry had only a single thought echoing in his mind.
‘Slytherins give the best Christmas presents...’
~ The End ~