Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books and Warner Brothers, Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Note: This fic, based on WeasleyWench's words (love, present, mistletoe, candles, bed), was written for the 2008 Hex Files fundraiser. This is a slightly modified version.
Beta: C Dumbledore – Your help and sage advice is always appreciated. Thanks!
No Greater Gift
It began with a handshake. Draco extended his hand to Harry, offering his gratitude for saving his life on several occasions. Harry regarded Draco in shocked silence, stunned that the words "thank you" were even a part of the younger Malfoy's vocabulary. Quickly realising that the gesture had not been easy for Draco, Harry grasped the proffered hand and shook it firmly, declaring them "even". A brief moment of understanding passed between them, and then Draco nodded and walked away.
After that, it seemed that the Fates had plans for the two young men, bringing them together chance meeting after chance meeting. At first, they would acknowledge each other's presence with a look or a bow of the head and then go about their business. Words of greeting soon became quick chats, which then became full-blown conversations. Much to their surprise, Harry and Draco found that they actually liked one another and began spending time together.
And then it happened. Harry and Draco fell for each other – hard and fast. One snog and there was no looking back. It seemed that the old Muggle adage – there's a fine line between love and hate – was true. Their Hogwarts years had been spent balancing on that edge, and all it took was a kiss to send them tumbling over and into deep, passionate, true love. Realising that they were meant to be, Harry and Draco purchased a house and moved in together, knocking not only their friends and family, but the entirety of wizarding Britain, for a loop.
Ginny did not take Harry's news well. Deciding that a spell or ten wasn't good enough, it had taken most of the male members of the Weasley household to physically restrain Ginny when she tried to strangle Harry with her bare hands. Arthur asked Harry to leave, and the look that Ron gave him left little doubt about his feelings. Saying he was truly sorry, Harry Apparated home.
As time passed, Hermione helped Harry patch things up with the Weasleys, and even Ginny could see that Harry and Draco were perfect together. It killed her to admit it, but she couldn't deny what was staring her right in the face. Harry was happier than she had ever seen him, and it was all Draco's doing. Ginny, as well as all the Weasleys, had no choice but to accept the relationship.
While Harry and Draco began their life together, the wheels of justice kept turning. The Ministry was anxious to erase all traces of Voldemort's regime, and thus the trials began. What the Wizengamot had counted on as being easy, turned out to be anything but. Many of the Death Eaters claimed that they had been Imperiused, and the Wizengamot had to resort to the use of Veritaserum and Legilimency to prove their attempted deceit.
Lucius Malfoy had made no such claim, and Harry sat with Draco as he watched as his father stood, face impassive, as he received his sentence – life in Azkaban. Even then, Lucius showed no sign of emotion, no indication that what had been said had touched him in anyway at all. The Malfoy mask of cool, calm superiority was firmly in place.
Draco, too, wore that same mask, no doubt learned from his father as a young child. It was a lesson he had learned well, it seemed; the only indication that his father's verdict had affected Draco was the slight tightening of his grip as he held Harry's hand. Just as the elder Malfoy was to be led away, he turned to face Draco. Fixing him with a stare that would have made a lesser man cringe, Lucius' gaze fell to Harry and Draco's joined hands. Harry held his breath, waiting for the tirade he was sure was forthcoming. Instead, Lucius spit on the floor, turned, and left, head held high.
"Please, take me home," said Draco desperately.
And he did. Harry held Draco tightly that night, keenly aware of the anguish the day's events had caused his lover.
Narcissa fared better than her husband, her ten-year sentence to the wizarding prison seeming light by comparison. Harry felt Draco tense as his mother stood and turned to face them.
"Please, Mr Potter, look after my son," pleaded Narcissa.
"You have my word," said Harry.
She then cried out as she was removed from the Wizengamot chamber, "I love you, Draco!"
"Mother," Draco whispered to the place where Narcissa had stood.
That night Harry held Draco as he finally allowed himself to cry.
It took almost two years for Draco's own trial to come up. Being unMarked, he had been placed under magical surveillance and confined to the wizarding areas of Britain, his whereabouts known at all times.
Although the charges against Draco were serious, Harry was confident that he would receive a lesser form of punishment, a stiff fine or community service, perhaps. This was why Harry exploded in anger when the sentence was passed, his rage making the chamber candles gutter and papers fly wildly about.
"NO!" cried Harry. "You can't do that!"
"We can, and we will," said the presiding wizard. "Calm yourself, Mr Potter."
"This is insane! It wasn't his fault!"
"Mr Potter—"
"No! I testified on his behalf. Surely that must count for something!"
"SILENCE! Indeed, you spoke eloquently on behalf of your…lover… but even the great Harry Potter himself is not above this court."
The way the man had said 'lover', as if it were a dirty word, made Harry's skin crawl. "That's not what I mean—"
"One more word and I will have you removed from this chamber."
With the threat of expulsion from the room keeping him silent, Harry watched, helpless, as Draco's wand was snapped in two
Harry took the pale and visibly shaken Draco home, passing through throngs of reporters and photographers without a word. Although Draco insisted that he was fine, Harry knew better. As they lay in bed that night, Harry kissed Draco's forehead and said, "I'll get your wand back. I promise."
Draco's only reply had been to burrow deeper into the safety of Harry's arms.
Harry awoke the next morning to find himself alone in the big bed. He stretched and got up, calling out for Draco. Harry frowned when no reply came. Making his way to the kitchen, Harry was just about to call out again when he spied a piece of parchment on the table. What Harry read, in Draco's precise handwriting, made his knees buckle. Shaking his head in disbelief, he re-read the short note:
My dearest Harry,
I have brought you nothing but shame. You deserve to be with someone worthy of your love. I am truly sorry for all the pain I have caused. I'll always love you.
Draco
Harry ran back to the bedroom, only to discover that a rucksack and some of Draco's possessions were missing. He was gone. Harry swore, quickly dressed, and left to find Draco.
Harry was sure that his errant lover had not got very far and would be home by nightfall. Harry had been sadly mistaken. Night after night, day after day, Harry searched to no avail. It was as if Draco vanished into thin air. As the months went by, Harry experienced a gamut of emotions: hurt, anger, despair, frustration, loneliness. But through it all, even when his friends told him to give up the search, Harry held onto the notion that Draco would come back to him. At times, that thought was the only thing that kept him going.
ooOOoo
In the two years following Draco's disappearance, Harry steadfastly refused to date, so Hermione often accompanied him on an evening out. She and Harry were strolling along a very busy Muggle London street, when Harry suddenly grabbed her hand and began trying to push his way through the crowd.
"What's wrong?" asked Hermione.
"It's Draco."
"Where?"
"Over there. Bloody cars! We'll never get across the street! Move!" Harry cried to the never-ending traffic.
By the time they crossed, Draco was nowhere to be seen.
"Maybe it wasn't him," said Hermione.
"It was. I know it."
"Well, he's gone now. Can we go too? I'm freezing."
Harry reluctantly agreed, but returned to the theatre district every night for two weeks in the hopes of finding Draco again. On the morning of December twenty-fourth, Harry awoke with the strangest feeling. He was so sure that Draco would be coming home with him that night that he decorated the house for Christmas, right down to the mistletoe hung in the archway.
Harry was no Seer, but his intuition had been right. He found Draco begging in front of a heating vent, trying to stay warm. Harry's heart clenched; Draco was so thin! Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'll buy you a meal, if you'll let me."
Draco froze. His hand reached out to touch Harry, but he stopped, and then turned and walked away.
"Draco," cried Harry, "don't go!"
"I can't st—"
"Let's just talk over a meal. Please?"
Draco sighed. "I shouldn't, but okay."
They went to a nearby restaurant and ordered, ignoring the looks Draco's dishevelled appearance garnered.
"What have you been doing all this time?" asked Harry as Draco warmed his hands around a bowl of soup.
"Begging, mostly. Can't find work without Muggle papers. I get the odd job under the table, but they're hard to come by."
Harry nodded, listening to Draco's tales of life on the streets and watching him eat. Finally, Harry could wait no longer.
"Please come home," asked Harry.
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I'm not a wizard, not even a Squib or a Muggle. I'm nothing."
"That's not true. You're a man, and you're everything to me."
"I've no wand!" cried Draco.
Harry withdrew his own wand and held it in his hands. "I'll break mine too so we'll be equal."
Draco watched in horror as Harry's wand bent. "Stop! Y-you'd d-do that for me?"
"Yes, if that's what it takes. I love you. I need you. Come home."
"I…."
"Do you love me, Draco?"
"I never stopped, not even for a second."
"So, then, say yes."
At Draco's nod, Harry threw some money on the table and hurried out into the alleyway, Apparating them home.
As they moved under the mistletoe, Harry instinctively moved to kiss Draco. To Harry's surprise, Draco moved away.
"I-I'm sorry," said Harry. Too much, too soon, yeah?"
Draco shook his head. "It's not that." He looked down at himself and a deep blush rose up his neck to colour his pale cheeks. "I'm not very clean," he whispered. "It's kind of difficult, you know, when you're on the streets."
Harry understood Draco's embarrassment; he had always been so fastidious about his appearance before. Harry decided to keep the mood light.
"No worries! I'll have you fixed up in no time."
Harry ran the bath while Draco slowly undressed, and it took all of his control not to react when he saw the blond naked. Harry had thought Draco thin when they had first found each other, but that was nothing compared to this. Draco was skin and bones, and Harry's heart ached anew.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he smiled and said, "All ready. Hop in and make a start. I'll just go get you something to wear, and then I'll wash your back and hair for you."
Harry went to the bedroom and collected Draco's pyjamas, slippers and dressing gown, casting a Freshening Charm over them to make sure they were sweet smelling, and then hurried back to the bathroom.
Draco smiled shyly up at him from the tub. "My clothes. And this is my favourite soap. I can't believe you kept them."
"Of course I did. I knew you'd be back one day," said Harry, grinning. "And today is that day."
Once Harry had lovingly bathed Draco, they settled in front of the fireplace, watching the dancing flames. As the clock struck midnight, Harry Summoned a box from under the tree.
"Happy Christmas, Draco."
Draco's face fell. "But I have no present for you," he said forlornly.
"Nonsense, you already gave me one tonight. You came home. Go ahead, open it."
Draco undid the wrapping paper and frowned. "The pieces of my wand? I don't underst—"
"Read the parchment," Harry said.
Draco scanned the official-looking document, his eyes growing wider and wider. He read the last line aloud. "We hereby grant Draco Malfoy the right to bear a wand. How is this possible?"
"I made you a promise, and I kept it."
"Thank you for giving me my life back," Draco whispered. "Happy Christmas, Harry."
Harry kissed Draco deeply. "Happy Christmas, my love, and welcome home."
fin