Well, this is my christmas fic this year. It's kinda late, sorry about that, and more than a little odd. It really doesn't tie in to christmas until the end. -shrugs- oh well. I tried. The idea just wouldn't leave me alone.

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-

"DAMMIT!" Harry's furious, agonized shout echoed through the first floor of their house, calling Draco out of his study to see what was disturbing him. He passed through the wards around Harry's workroom easily; after all, hadn't they been married for almost five years now?

He found Harry on his knees before a blackened space on the stone floor, the wards around the room still singing with the force of the explosion. Draco wondered idly how Harry had managed to remain unharmed if the blast had been that powerful as he moved to stand beside Harry, until he saw the faint shimmer of an Absorption Sheild almost touching Harry's skin, clothes, and hair. The shield would have absorbed the energy, feeding it back to Harry at a rate he could safely handle instead of an uncontrolled rush.

"Harry." Harry jumped as Draco laid a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?" Harry looked around shiftily, and Draco guessed he wasn't supposed to know about whatever Harry was trying to do. He sighed. Even now, Harry couldn't resist keeping secrets.

He remembered the day he had realized that all was not perfect in Harry's life. Everyone had returned to school after the defeat of the Dark Lord, and Draco had been idly wandering the halls, hardly able to believe he was allowed to return. He would later learn that Harry had insisted on it, as he had seen through his visions that Draco had been terrified during his time as a Death Eater; he had not enjoyed what he had been forced to do to save his life.

There was a muffled whimper from an alcove down the hall and, curious, Draco moved to see who it was. He was surprised to see Harry Potter, wimpering and trembling, crouched in the corner, but only because he thought his keepers wouldn't have let him out of Gryffindor Tower in such a state. Harry's eyes snapped up to his, and they stared at each other for a wordless moment, then Draco dropped slowly to his knees before the other boy, holding one hand out coaxingly.

"Come on, Harry, it's all right." He spoke in a soothing tone that would have shocked anyone who heard him, especially if they could see who he was talking to. But Draco was no stranger to Post-Tramatic Stress Disorder, and could recognize the signs of a panic attack.

Harry watched him appraisingly, then took his hand. Draco used the grip to gently pull Harry into his arms, stroking his back and hair soothingly, murmuring comforting words unti the trembling ceased. Harry sank into his embrace as into safety that had been long denied.

After about half an hour of silence, Harry picked his head up from where it was resting on Draco's chest.

"Thank you, Draco." Draco was startled at how good his name sounded on Harry's lips.

"Think nothing of it, Harry, think nothing of it."

"Why-" Unable to follow Draco's gentle command, Harry was seeking understanding of what had to be a major surprise now that he had calmed. Draco sighed. It had been worth a try, but he had known Harry wouldn't be reassured by such a vague statement.

"You're not the only one who wears a mask, Harry." The fact that he hadn't realized Harry wore a mask until then only served to prove how much the other boy thought he needed it, to have perfected it so. He felt as proud of Harry's accomplishment as he had ever felt about any of his snakes.

Harry nodded his accpetance of that statement, laying his head back on Draco's chest.

Draco had realized, watching them, that Harry had successfully kept his condition from his friends. Weasley and Granger didn't have a clue how damaged he was. And if they didn't know, that probably meant nobody did, and Harry wasn't getting treatment. Though Draco couldn't really blame him. Everyone expected Harry to be perfect, and his mask was the Gryffindor Golden Boy. Not to mention the media went wild any time his name was mentioned. Therefore, the next time he ran into the Troublesome Trio, he pulled Harry aside, under silencing spells. The other two had been suspicious, but Harry put them off, saying that Draco had found out that he had insisted he be allowed to finish his schooling, and had wanted to thank him. Draco had been acting different enough that this deception was believeable, though Weasley felt rather betrayed; he hadn't known that Harry had interceeded for Draco, who had been their worst enemy at school. Harry shrugged it off, saying that Hogwarts just wouldn't be the same without Draco there.

-

They met after curfew every other day, and Granger and Weasley never knew. Was it any surprise they had gotten close? It had been the forbidden that had drawn Weasley and Granger together with Harry, the adventures they had first year was what had cemented their friendship. Meeting after hours was not only forbidden by the rules but, according to Harry, his friends would never have forgiven him had they found out about his friendship with their nemisis; were either of them surprised that Harry became drawn to Draco? And Draco had always wanted Harry, that was why he had been so angry when Harry rejected him, angry enough to torment them for turning Harry against him, even when his consience told him that it was his own attitude that did that. He had been so spoiled as a child, and forced to continue the act as he grew so his father would not get suspicious.

When they finally did find out, it was almost anti-climatic after Harry had worried so much about their reaction, as he had always planned to tell them 'later.' Granger walked in on them talking in the library during lunch. She had been worried about Harry, since he had been missing meals alot lately, and had decided to find him and coerce him into talking. She hadn't said anything then, but it wasn't two weeks later that she and Weasley confronted Draco about it.

"What kind of game you think you're playing with Harry, ferret?!" Draco sighed as Weasley's hate-filled tone filled the hallway, and wondered again what Harry saw in the redhead.

"Who says I'm playing a game," he asked calmly, though he really just wanted to pull his wand and hex the idiot. Harry would be upset with him though, and a fight really wasn't the best way to celebrate their first week as a couple.

"What else would it be?" Granger asked nutrally, and Draco was almost grateful for her lack of hostility.

"I assure you, it is no game. I am most serious." He almost said dead serious, but figured they would get the wrong idea.

"What were you doing with Harry?!" Granger demanded worriedly. Draco snorted. She had barely paid attention to him all year, too wrapped up in her boyfriend, but as soon as she knew Harry was talking to Draco, she got worried.

"We were talking."

"About what!?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to ask Harry that. I don't betray my friends' confidances." It had hurt to call Harry his friend instead of his boyfriend, now that he could finally claim that title, but he figured one shock at a time would be better for their continued support, which was currently very important to Harry's mental health.

"Oh, and how are we supposed to do that? Just walk up to him and ask 'Hey Harry, what were you and Malfoy talking about the other day?'! He'd look at us like we were crazy!" At least they realized he was keeping secrets from them. It was more than he would ahve given them credit for. Draco smirked over their shoulders.

"You could try turning around." They both spun, and blushed fiercely when they saw Harry standing behind them, looking confused.

"What's going on, guys?"

"Nothing Harry. Weasley, Granger, and I were just having a little chat, weren't we?" Now that Harry was there to deal with his friends, Draco pushed through the door he had been headed for when they had stopped him, Harry immediately behind him. The other two followed uncertanly. Draco rolled his eyes, making Harry grin, and ignored them, strolling towards the fireplace and the couches arranged beside it. Slytherins often used this room for negotiations, and Draco had hoped to use it for an anniversary make-out session. It looked like that wouldn't be happening now.

He conjured up two glasses, and poured them full of Scotch from the bottle he had hidden here earlier, handing one to Harry. Harry seemed to be fond of Scotch. Harry took it with a soft smile, his masks dropping, and Draco was glad. He had feared Harry would continue hiding as long as his friends were there.

They sat together on a loveseat, leaving Granger and Weasley to take the other, each watching through hooded eyes, sipping Scotch as they leaned casually into a corner. Weasley was disturbed by the similarity, Draco could tell by how his eyes kept shifting away from them, and Draco's smirk widened.

"So, now will you tell us what you were talking about?!" Granger asked impatiently, her voice clearly saying that she couldn't imagine what they would have to say to each other. Draco looked at Harry, who nodded reluctantly.

"Harry has PTSD. Post-Tramatic Stress Disorder," he elaborated at their confusion. "I'm surprised more of you don't, honestly. Alot of my friends do, and most of them wern't anywhere near the front lines." He grimaced and took a large swallow of Scotch, letting the burn of the alchohol drown out the sting of the fear he himself still felt. "He needed someone to talk to without worrying it would ruin their opinion of him, and in his eyes the only way my opinion of him could change would be to get better." He turned to Harry, suddenly desprate to make sure Harry understood. "Though, I never hated you as much as you thought I did. I was jealous."

'Of what?' a raised eyebrow asked silently, and he flicked his eyes towards Weasley and Granger in explination. Harry smiled his understanding, while the other two looked on, curious, and unaware of the silent conversation.

"And Draco needed to talk to someone who wouldn't blackmail him with whatever he told them," Harry said softly. Draco grimaced again, but didn't object to Harry giving them this information. It wouldn't do any good now, they already knew, and objecting would only tell them it was something he didn't want to get out, ensuring that it did.

About fifteen minutes later, they finally submitted to him not-so-subtle hints that he wanted them to leave. Sighing happily, Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's waist as Harry leaned into the embrace.

"Happy one-week anniversary, babe," Draco whispered, pressing a kiss to Harry's temple.

They hadn't found out that Harry and Draco were dating until they had moved in together a year and a half later into their first house, this house. It had taken that long for the house to be built, as they both were very definate in what they wanted in a house, and knew they wouldn't find it already on the market. They had started planning it immediately after graduation, and it had taken months of arguments to finalize the plans. But they had done it together, and both considered it a major accomplishment. The actual construction hadn't taken nearly as long as the planning, and 18 months after they left school, it was ready to have people over.

"Ron, 'Mi, nice to see you!" Harry hugged them both under Draco's amused eye.

"What's he doing here?" Weasley nodded towards Draco, his tone hostile. "Giving him the tour too?"

"I should hope I don't require a tour of my own home." Draco took immense satisfaction in their shock.

"He's. . . living here?" Living with you? she meant, and Draco saw the pang of sadness flash through Harry's eyes at her confused sadness as she took Harry's harmless deception as a personal betrayal. He had only told them he had built the house with his love. They had both assumed he meant girlfriend.

Then Harry nodded happily, and even Weasley had to smile at the rare sight of Harry consumed with pure joy. They led their guests into the house, and they started around in awe. The living room, dining room, ballroom, and various half-baths were Draco's biggest contribution, and they were designed to impress, clearly meant for formal entertaining. Through a door was the less formal sitting room, with doors to Harry's and Draco's studies. Draco denied them a tour of his study, as it was rather full of material they would find questionable, but Harry promised them a drink in his after dinner.

The second floor was a huge library, covering the floorspace of the entire ground floor except the kitchen, and it was mostly full, even with the books that Draco dared not put in common view for fear someone would accuse him of going dark, a serious accusation in the aftermath of Voldemort. Draco hadn't taken any books from the Manor that he didn't personally own, but his father had encouraged his interest in reading by buying him any book that caught his eye, and Harry wasn't far behind, buying tons of books over the year and a half of construction to make up for being denied as a child. Harry bought alot of things that he had been denied as a child. He had a room full of stuffed toys. An another of art supplies. All hidden away in their private suite, of course. His art was horrible, but Draco found it amusing that Harry would randomly lock himself away and just cuddle with his array of stuffed toys, often falling asleep with them if Draco was busy with something when he went to bed.

The entire third and fourth floors were gurst rooms, as Draco planned to do alot of entertaining like his parents had before the war. He had loved the parties as a child, and couldn't wait to have them at his own house, which was his pride and joy. There was a grand staircase running from the formal sitting room, through the library, up to the fourth floor specifically for guests. The staircase to their rooms, however, was hidden. The entire fifth floor was reserved for their personal use, and nobody outside of the family was allowed to even know of their existance. It had taken two weeks to convince Harry that the Family Sanctuary, as Draco called it, was to be hidden from all but blood family. He had wanted to show it to Granger and the Weasleys. Draco would not have that, and they had fought for weeks, until Draco sat down with him, and explained why it was so important to a pureblood family to have secret rooms they could escape to in their home, and assurred him that the Weasleys assurredly had them as well, not mentioning them because he could never be taken there without a blood connection such as blood adoption or marrage. A quick firecall to Ron confirmed it, and Harry submitted.

After dinner, Harry led the two to his study, which -along with his workrooms- was the only room in the house Draco didn't even try to influence, other than determining what wards would be necessary around them. It was decorated in soft brown suedes and polished mahogany, and stocked with Harry's favorite Scotch, as well as a light red wine that Hermione was fond of, and they settled in to talk. Draco happily left them to it, escaping to his study and the Dark Arts books he was studying, attempting to find a way to use them without the dangerous properties that had earned them the lable 'Dark', though much of it was protective; protections from a harsher world than the modern one, where survival of the family was the most important thing to the warders.

-

Through their years of tumultous married life, Draco had never seen Harry this upset. His eyes were angry, and filled with tears at the same time.

"I wanted to make you something beautiful," Harry whispered finally, jarring him out of his reminices. "Beautiful like you are." Draco blushed softly at the complement, dropping to his knees and holding out his arms, and Harry folded into them, cuddling contentedly while Draco thought.

"What happened?" Tears streaked down Harry's face, and Draco wiped them away with gentle fingers.

"I keep loosing control of it," Harry whispered piteously. Harry had been extremely emotional lately, but it was the spell going awry that set off alarms in his brain. His mother had told him stories to prepare him for married life, and that was a common theme. A muttered spell later, and he was grinning happily.

"I think you've already made something beautiful," he whispered, to overjoyed to speak any louder, almost fearing it was a dream that any noise on his part would shatter.

"What do you mean?" Harry's voice sounded extrordinarily loud in the silence. Draco turned Harry so they were facing each other, sliding one hand down from where ir cupped Harry's cheek, down his body, making him shiver, resting it over Harry's stomach.

"You're pregnant, babe." Harry's eyes grew round.

"Pregnant?!" he whispered, shocked. Draco nodded, casting the spell again, so Harry could see it. A boy. Their first child would be a boy. Harry started laughing. "Well, is it a good Chirstmas present?" he managed after a moment. Draco nodded seriously, leaning forward to kiss Harry's lips gently.

"It's wonderful. Merry christmas, love."