Written for the Sunday one-hour challenge, prompted by the Underground Fanfictioners group. The word for this challenge was snow. Enjoy the Drarry and review if you enjoyed it/thought it was adorable!


Draco Malfoy was very frustrated by his current situation. Actually, he was beyond frustrated.

"This better be worth it, Potter," he muttered under his breath.

"What did you say, Draco?" Blaise Zabini asked, looking at his co-worker.

"Nothing," Draco replied. The twenty-year-old man put his head in his hands and began massaging his temples, wondering how this was going to work out. He didn't have nearly enough time to pull this off. Why had he come up with this crazy idea? Potter would be happy with anything he did. He didn't need to have an elaborate plan. Honestly, the Boy-Who-Lived would be happy with a pair of socks for his birthday.

Yes, that's right. In exactly three days, it was Harry Potter's birthday and Draco Malfoy, boyfriend of Harry Potter, didn't know what to do.

"I'm a horrible, horrible person," Draco murmured to himself. Blaise overheard the comment and rolled his eyes.

"Is this about your plans this weekend?" he asked. Draco's head shot up and he made cutting motions with his hands.

"Shut up, you idiot!" he hissed. "He can't find out!"

"Malfoy, he works five floors above us. I don't think he's going to overhear us discussing your weekend plans."

"You never know. Besides, news travels fast when we're involved," Draco retorted. Oh, the occupational hazard of being the boyfriend to one of the most popular celebrities in the wizarding world.

"Just relax then. Everything will work out. You've got the location, you've got the decorations, you've got the presents. What else do you need?" Blaise couldn't understand why the blonde was so anxious. After all, it was just a birthday celebration, right?

"I need snow."

Blaise blinked, not quite sure if he had heard right.

"Pardon?"

Draco sighed and turned back to Blaise.

"I need snow," he repeated. "After all, it really isn't Christmas without snow."

Blaise gave the paler man an incredulous look.

"You do realize it's July, right?"

Draco nodded mournfully. Blaise Zabini smirked.

"Good luck with that," he said. Draco snarled.

Nothing productive got done in the Department of Magical Research for the rest of the day. Draco remained in a foul mood as he tried to figure out what to do and no one besides Blaise was willing to come close to an irritated and frustrated Malfoy.

"Can you not go one week without terrorizing your assistants?"

Draco looked up from his desk at his dark-haired boyfriend.

"I need to keep them on their toes," he snapped. "And don't talk to me. You're to blame for my current mood."

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"What did I do now?" he asked.

"You existed," came the reply.

"I see," Harry replied.

"Yes."

"Well, I can't really do anything about that."

"Pity."

"Would dinner make up for it?"

Draco eyed his boyfriend.

"What kind of dinner?" he inquired, not wanting to take the bait.

"Your mother invited us over."

Draco made a face. He still didn't quite understand how she was completely fine with him dating Harry Potter. He would never understand the minds of women.

"Fine," he agreed reluctantly. Maybe she would have ideas.

Dinner that night was pleasant but it was impossible for Draco to get his mother alone to talk to her.

"So, Harry, do you and Draco have anything planned for your birthday this weekend?" Narcissa inquired. Harry shrugged.

"Stay at home?" It was more of a question than an actual response. Draco rolled his eyes at the typical response.

"Yes, we have plans," he answered, "and they don't involve you."

Narcissa smirked and took another delicate bite.

"I'm sure that they don't," she replied. "I was just curious as if you wanted to have a private getaway. You could show Harry the villa in France. It's in the mountains, you know. Absolutely gorgeous when there's snow capping the peaks."

Draco leaned forward. Was that a hint?

"Of course, since it's July, there's no more snow, but it still is beautiful."

Draco leaned back, disappointed. How did he have such a cruel mother? Why did she have to get his hopes up?

"I think we'd be better off staying near home," Harry replied, eyeing the two a bit nervously. He felt like he had missed some sort of hidden interaction.

"Yes, we're definitely staying home," Draco approved.

Then next few days were some of the longest of Draco's life. He still hadn't come up with a plan to get his snow and by July 30, it looked like he was going to have to go without. Disappointing, really. Snow would have made everything perfect but in July, the only place there was snow was in Antarctica.

The night of July 30 was a relatively calm one in the Potter-Malfoy household. The pair chatted over a homemade dinner, played chess, drank tea and read in bed until Harry fell asleep. Once Draco was sure that the green-eyed man was deeply sleeping, he snuck out of bed and cast a guilty look at the teacup lying beside the bed. He didn't like the fact that he had used a sleeping potion, but it was the only way to ensure that this remained a surprise until the last possible minute.

Draco crept down the stairs and oversaw the work that the house-elves had done once they had gone upstairs. He was amazed by it, actually. It was almost perfect and they had done it while being absolutely quiet.

"What's that?" he asked, as they were finishing. One of the house-elves was holding a bag full of something white.

"That be fake snow, sir. Mistress be saying that young Master be wanting snow and Wishy found this."

Draco examined the package carefully. It didn't look exactly like snow, but it would have to work. He had to have his snow.

"Good. Use it all," he ordered, then glanced at the time. Seeing that it was almost midnight, Draco left the house-elves to finish up, made sure he had everything wrapped, and went back upstairs. At exactly midnight, he shook his lover awake.

"Mhm…what is it?" Harry muttered groggily. Draco handed him his glasses and placed a kiss on the smaller man's forehead.

"Come downstairs," he whispered. "There's something you have to see."

Reluctantly, Harry left the warm bed and followed the blonde down the steps. He stopped on the bottom step with a small gasp.

"Happy birthday," Draco said, wrapping his arms around Harry. "Merry Christmas in July."

The dark-haired man let out a small laugh.

"Merry Christmas in July to you, too," he replied.

"Want to open your presents?" Draco asked. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I have presents?" he asked. Draco rolled his eyes.

"People normally get presents on their birthdays and on Christmas, yes," he said drily. Harry snorted at the typical Draco response.

"Yes, I want to open my presents," he said. "Lead the way."

Draco took the smaller man by the hand and led him until they were sitting practically under the large tree that took up their living room. Once they were situated, Draco handed Harry a small box. Green eyes widened and glanced up at Draco, who looked back nonchalantly.

With trembling hands, Harry Potter opened the ring-sized box. He let out a shaky breath when he saw it was only a round ornament and a note.

Thank you for existing, the note read in Draco's neat handwriting. Harry laughed, but it still sounded shaky. He set it aside and picked up the ornament inside. Inscribed on it were the words Christmas in July. It was sweet in a ridiculously cheesy way.

Harry tied the ornament to the tree so that it was hanging above his and Draco's heads. When he was finished, Draco had a second box in his hands. Harry eyed it. It was the same size as the other box he had just unwrapped.

"I know I'm unbearable to be around at times," Draco said. "I'm picky and snappy and easily irritated. Everyone thinks you're a saint for putting up with me. Even I think you're a saint."

Harry snorted.

"I don't really have a speech planned out, so I'm just going to ask. Will you marry me?"

Green eyes lit up as the dark-haired man smiled.

"Of course," he replied. "As long as—"

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Yes, you can see the ring," he finished, handing over the other box. Harry opened it and smiled at the simple, but elegant silver band. He slipped it on. It was a perfect fit. Harry leaned over and captured Draco's lips with his own.

"Thank you," he whispered once they pulled apart.

"Anytime," Draco whispered back and recaptured those lips he called his own. The grey-eyed man felt a cool drop on his hand and looked around. Snow. It was snowing in their apartment in July. How perfect.