A/N: Because I find it an interesting story in and of itself, I think I will also share the inspiration for this little Christmas tale. Draco and the main character of my own original WIP sat down one day in the sitting room of my brain and were debating, because I thought to ask, who was better-off. It spiraled down into who was better (neither boy ever thought to define "better"). Basically, their conversation went like this:

Draco: You sew?

OC: Well, you cook.

Draco: Only hot chocolate. At least I have a girl.

From that final line (my poor boy could only hang his head at that), this story was born.

Now, I feel myself also duty-bound to say that this story follows my AU timeline, chronicled in Death Eaters Don't Cry, Tapestries Tear (as yet not quite finished), and And Then There Were Nine. Alana and Draco's relationship is detailed mostly in Now You're Here. The Holly and the Ivy and Reindeer Pause are other Christmas stories sprung from this series, but the plot of the novel-esque series has been altered since those shorts were published; I have not gotten the chance to update Holly and the Ivy yet, but Reindeer Pause now fits the timeline. During my latest reading of DH, Draco showed me a better, more canon conclusion to my fanfic series. This story follows that vain; the others do not. So, for our purposes, this story is based off DEDC, TT, ATTWN, and Rowling's DH as my Draco would have it rewritten. I hope you enjoy.

Yours forever, Tsona

Mrs. O'Toule had very kindly left for bed after warning Draco that she would have his wand-arm and maybe a little more if he spent the night. He and Alana were alone this final night before she returned to her final year at Hogwarts. It had been difficult to watch her waving from the Hogwarts Express as he stood on the platform and harder to be able to see her only on the holidays, and then to have to share her with Mrs. O'Toule and share his time with the Weasleys, who wouldn't hear of his missing such an important day as Christmas or of his interrupting the O'Toules' celebrations.

Draco poured out the contents of the pot he had been stirring and moved back toward the living room. Alana was curled on the couch, her eyes on the fire. Her hair was golden from the firelight and silver from the twinkle of the Muggle Christmas lights wound around her tree behind her. It looked almost like tinsel tonight.

He padded across the carpet as quietly as he could, but she still looked up with a smile before he had reached the couch. He smiled back.

"Cheers," he said, passing her one of the mugs. "To a good Spring term," he suggested, "and graduation in June."

Alana laughed. "I'll be back at Easter, Draco."

"I know. But it seems such a long way away."

He let himself down on the couch beside her. Her toes tickled his legs, but he tried to ignore the sensation and sipped his own mug of hot chocolate. It had been Dobby's recipe. The elf had taught him to brew it one Christmas Eve as Draco had hid from the annual Malfoy party. Lowering the mug, he looked at his own reflection with a sad smile. Poor Dobby....

"This," Alana sighed, "is fantastic." Her eyes were shut and her mouth was curved in a loose, bright smile, as she let the mug hover just beneath her face, its steam wafting up around her.

"Thanks. It's Dobby's recipe."

Her reaction was enthusiastic rather than reverent and subdued as he had expected. "Do you even realize-- I feel like I could be miles away now, in Morocco-- somewhere exotic. I've never tasted anything like this."

"It's just a few spices," Draco countered.

"What spices?"

Draco hesitated. With Dobby gone, only he knew the recipe. It didn't quite seem right to pass on the elf's secret without his consent. It wouldn't be the same coming from Draco, anyway.

Alana laughed. "Is it some secret family recipe?" she wondered. "One of the Muggles down the street," she explained, "Mrs. Neal-- she told me her cherry pie recipe has to be passed on in her will. Only one Neal is allowed to hold the recipe at a time."

"No," Draco said, slightly alarmed that anyone would consider this sort of secrecy necessary for nothing more than a recipe. "It's nothing like that, but--"

"So tell me."

"I don't know if--"

"I bet your lips taste like hot chocolate too," she grinned, watching him, catlike, over the rim of her chipped mug. The random comment momentarily threw Draco, but he liked her growing smile. Setting the mug on the maple coffee table she leaned toward him. "I could try to pull it from you with a--"

It was Draco's turn to bite back a laugh, knowing she was coming in for a kiss. "You could try," he said, reaching out to take her waist. "I wouldn't object. But I still won't tell you."

Alana frowned, pulling away and picking the mug back up to take another sip. Draco felt a little let down. His hand peeled reluctantly from her side. "Is it something illegal?" she wondered. "It's either that or you're refusing just to tease."

"Tease?" Draco repeated with a grin, biting back another laugh at the ridiculousness of her former suggestion. "I'm much too serious to tease. It's definitely something illegal."

"Tease," she accused, grinning back, and sipping from the hot chocolate again.

"Take another sip," he urged. "Maybe you can guess." However silly, he was enjoying this game. It had been so long since they had seen each other-- since September first-- but now it felt as if it had been only a few hours, like they had already talked about everything important and were down to chattering just to hear each other's voices, to keep the other from leaving.

"I never was any good at cooking," she sighed, but obliged him. "Is it cinnamon?"

Draco just grinned.

"Nutmeg?"

Draco still said nothing.

"You're not going to tell me even if I do guess it, are you?"

Draco still grinned silently.

"Is it an aphrodisiac? Is that why you won't tell me?"

This time a laugh escaped Draco at the sheer ridiculousness of the suggestion.

"Love potion?" she guessed now, laughing too.

Draco, beaming, offered what they both already knew: "You'd know if it were that."

"Yeah, I would, but that doesn't rule out an aphrodisiac."

"I think chocolate itself is supposed to be an aphrodisiac," he told her conversationally.

"Aha!" she cried. "So it's a special kind of chocolate!"

"Maybe. But there're still spices. I wasn't lying."

Alana frowned. "How many?"

"A number," Draco allowed.

Alana frowned more deeply, looking into the steaming contents of her mug. "I'm not the best at potions either."

"I don't know if any potions tricks would work on this."

"I bet the theory would," Alana parried. "Just tell me," she tried then, "what harm will it do?"

"If I tell you, you won't need me to make it for you."

"You want to Apparate to my side every time I have a craving for hot chocolate?"

Draco smiled and told her, sincerely, "I'd love that."

She frowned again.

"You know," he said now, "I think I will make it a family secret. No one else knows now that Dobby-- well...."

"How does that honor Dobby?"

"House-elves guard their family's secrets most closely." Draco took another sip of hot chocolate, smiling at her over the rim of the mug. "Maybe it's time wizards repaid the favor."

"You've been spending time with Hermione, haven't you?"

Draco couldn't deny it. She seemed more and more often at the Weasleys'. He confirmed it with another smile.

"Well if it's a Malfoy secret I guess there's no getting you to tell me the recipe, is there?"

"You'd have to marry me first," Draco grinned.

"All right."

Draco coughed, nearly choking on the sip of cocoa he'd just taken. "What?"

Alana, smiling, reached up to wipe a dribble of hot chocolate from his chin. The gentle brush of her finger made him shiver. "You think I haven't been waiting for you to ask?"

"Ask?" he sputtered. "Ask?"

"Ask me to marry you, silly."

"But--"

"You weren't going to?" she frowned.

"Well," Draco amended, dropping his eyes away from her, "not till later. You have school to finish."

"I'll be done in half a year."

"Yes, but until then you should focus on--"

"Draco," she said, her low voice sober, "fantasizing about life with you won't be any more distracting because I know rather than guess that one day I'll get it."

"Well that's completely-- Your mother wouldn't like it."

"My mother doesn't have to know," Alana smiled, "yet. Just tell me you want to marry me, Draco, and you can ask me properly later, if that's what you want."

Draco had tried before to deny his feelings and never succeeded. "Of course, I want--"

"That's all I wanted to hear," Alana told him, her voice a purr. Then her lips were upon his and his eyes closed as he let himself feel again the flash of fire through him, racing to his brain and purging all his worst thoughts. His arms crept around her, found her waist, and pulled her closer. How did he survive the school year without her?

His lips parted from hers reluctantly as she pulled back. She was smiling, her eyes gleaming. "Cloves?" she asked.

Draco only laughed and pulled her in for another kiss.

A/N: Now that the wrapping's off. It's time for you to tell me what you think of the gift I've given you. And it will be a gift to me if you do. Happy holidays, good readers!

Yours forever, Tsona