On their first Christmas together, Harry learned just how much Draco loved to play in the snow. They spent the day playing in it, throwing snowballs at each other and building snowmen. They made snow angels and tackled each other into snow drifts. It was as he held Draco pinned in the snow, grins on both their faces and the Slytherin's cheeks pink from the cold, that Harry realized he was in love.
On their second Christmas together, Harry asked Draco to move in with him. Draco, of course, had accepted immediately and they spent the evening curled up by the fireplace sipping hot chocolate and making plans for the big move.
Their third Christmas together, Harry's gift to Draco was a ring mistletoe.
"Marry me," he said softly. Draco grinned and nodded, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck.
"Yes," he replied, kissing the man's lips. They spent the night making love in their warm bed while snow fell just outside their window.
The first Christmas after their son was born was spent in the warmth of their sitting room. Harry had built a fire and the little family sat together on the sofa, Scorpius James in Draco's arms and Harry's arms around his husband, as they watched the twinkle of the fairy lights on the Christmas tree.
On their tenth Christmas together, when Scorpius was five, they spent the day in the snow just as they had so many years ago at Hogwarts. They built a snowman family, had a snowball fight—which Draco and Scorpius won against Harry—and made snow angels. The evening ended with the family curled up by the fire, sipping hot chocolate. Scorpius fell asleep with his head on Draco's lap. Harry smiled at the sight and hugged his husband, kissing his hair.
On their first Christmas after the diagnosis, everything was subdued. Harry found Draco sitting at the kitchen table, staring out the window at the snow as it came down heavily. He put his hand on the man's shoulder and worried blue-grey eyes turned to look at him. Draco covered Harry's hand with his own as the Gryffindor pressed his lips to blonde hair.
"Everything will be fine," Harry said softly, kneeling beside Draco and stroking his hair back from his eyes. "I promise you." Draco nodded, taking a shaky breath. Harry wiped away the single tear that ran across pale skin. He kissed the Slytherin's lips and hugged him tight, planning to never let go.
On their nineteenth Christmas, Harry found Draco staring out the window at the snow and he wrapped his arms around the man's waist, dropping a kiss to his neck.
"What do you say we go out and play in the snow?" he said softly. Draco grinned and turned his head to look at him.
"I'd like that," he replied, kissing Harry's lips. They pulled on their coats, scarves, gloves, and boots, heading out into the white drifts. They threw a few light-hearted snowballs, Harry finally deciding just to launch himself at Draco instead. He wrapped his arms around the man's waist, Draco's arms coming around his neck. The laughed and grinned at each other as they started to slow dance in the snow. They stole a few kisses, Harry kissing away the snowflakes that stuck to Draco's nose and eyelashes.
Their afternoon was a rather romantic one, ending hot chocolate, wine, and the most loving sex they'd had in months.
On Harry's first Christmas without Draco, what would have been their twentieth if the blonde had made it through, the Gryffindor spent it at the cemetery, kneeling in the snow beside his husbands grave. They had received news in April that the cancer had spread, and there wasn't anything else that could be done. Draco's health had spiraled down after they'd stopped giving him chemo. He'd barely made it to June. He died three days before his thirty-seventh birthday.
Scorpius had chosen to remain at Hogwarts for Christmas this year. He was still coping, Harry understood that. But it didn't stop him from wishing the boy would come home to spend Christmas with him so that he wouldn't be so alone.
He told Draco this, as he kneeled there on the frozen ground. He told him how much he missed him, and how much he loved him. He talked about the house and how it didn't seem to feel as warm without him. Harry stood after several long hours in the cold, leaving a red rose on the grave. He pressed his lips to the headstone. "I love you," he whispered. Harry turned and walked away, heading back to his empty house that still echoed with the memories of a dozen happy Christmases and the laugh of a blonde-haired, silver-eyed Slytherin that wouldn't be there to dance in the snow with him ever again.
Author Note:
Inspired by the lovely snow falling outside my window and the incredible music of Thriving Ivory.