Author note: I asked for Harry Potter for Christmas, but somehow JK Rowling didn't give into a 16 year olds pleas. Wonder why? Anyhoo, on with the slash! (Dedicated to Rachel for she is my muse.)

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It's cold and Ron shivers, pulling his cloak around him trying to comfort himself. He reckons he should shut the window to his attic room, but doesn't cross the room to do so. He just continues to shiver, while his windowsill slowly becomes snowy and wet. He sits at a chair at his desk, staring at the parchment in front of him. He looks for the words he wants to say, but he only has one world written so far.

Malfoy

He isn't sure why he couldn't even write Malfoy's first name. He whispers it softly in the night air. "Draco." His voice cracks saying it. He closes his eyes and sees the blond standing in front of him, not taunting him like he had done so often - but smiling. Smiling a secret smile, a smile just for Ron. A smile Ron knows well, a smile he cant wait to see again.

Ron wishes it would stop snowing and the months would melt away to spring. Spring, where he could pull Draco outside and take him deep into the forbidden forest, until the trees melt away and there is a small clearing. A place where they could picnic. A place where Ron could hold him in his arms and never be afraid of anyone seeing. A place he wishes he could be right now instead of shivering in his room, god knows how far from the one he loves.

I really don't know what to say here, but I told you I'd write you. It's hard to put down how I feel on paper and besides, I doubt you'd want one of those 'sissy love letters' you always say you hate. So how about we settle for the fact I miss you.

Ron

He looks down at the words and hopes they're good enough, and Draco can see they're sincere. He looks out the window and wonders if he is outside. Maybe Draco is playing in the snow, the soft snowflakes landing in his hair and his face getting red and cold. He wonders if he builds snowmuggles like Ron so often has with his older brothers. He wonders if he makes them fight. He shakes his head and realizes that where Draco is, there is no one to play with. He's the only child, and Ron certainly can't imagine Draco having close friends at home. Come to think of it, Ron can't really imagine him having close friends at school either.

Ron suddenly feels a pang of guilt in his stomach for leaving Harry all alone back at school for Christmas. Ron's mum had told him she wanted all her kids back at home because Charlie had finally found a wife and they were expecting. She wanted to have one last family Christmas before everyone started having families and going off on their own. She seemed a bit sad by these facts, but ran around the house all day baking for anyone who wanted cookies or anything at all. She barely even seemed to notice anytime the twins blew something up.

He looks back down at the parchment, wanting to write more but not knowing what to say. He sighs heavily and tries to remember when it had became hard to know what to say to Malfoy - er, Draco. He can't remember when he stopped wanting to punch his lights out or have the perfect comeback to his one-liners. He can just remember the night when everything changed and they kissed. It was early September, and school was barely getting underfoot, when Draco had pushed him into an abandoned room and Ron's world swirled around into a beautiful new thing.

When they kissed it was perfection, and Ron felt whole again. He realized sometime ago that he couldn't even breathe for a few moments afterwards, and his eyes never wanted to open again. He wanted to remember every detail of Draco's mouth on his, every single touch. He never wants their meetings to end, and he never wants to leave and go back to his cold, lonely dorm room.

But he can't write that down in a letter, he can't even say it out loud to Draco. He can't tell anyone his thoughts. He knows he loves him too much, that he'll be hurt someday and so he holds back. He doesn't say anything too clingy or do anything that is too couple-y. He just tries to go about his day, all the while thinking about Draco, but never telling him he is the reason his grades are slipping.

For what seems like the millionth time, he looks down at his letter. He starts to fold it up and seal it when a big owl comes swooping in the room and lands on Ron's desk. He tries to process this information, but sits open mouthed for a moment before untying the letter from the owl's leg. It flies over to Pig's cage and takes a quick drink before flying out the open window once again.

Ron's quite pleased he'd left his window open, because he knows who the letter is from. Draco. He carefully unseals it, making sure it stays near perfect, he hoped this would be something he cherished forever.

Ron,

Ron smiles because he hadn't called him Weasley or Weasel or anything else. He stops and continues to read.

I know I told you to write me, but one very prominent Malfoy trait is impatience. So, while waiting for your owl I got restless and decided to just write you instead. I hope that is all right with you.

Home is quite boring. I'm not quite sure why I didn't stay at Hogwarts this year, but it might have to do with you not being there. It's not really the same going to Christmas breakfast without seeing your freckled face and bed-head. A look that is very becoming on you, if I do say so myself.

Mostly I just wanted to tell you I miss you, Ron. I know I'm not the type to be 'mushy', but I wish you were here with me now. Or better yet, I there with you. There's one more thing I have to tell you, and since I'm too chicken to say it to your face I'll write it here.

I love you

D.M

Ron imagines Draco sitting at his desk, writing this note. He sees him chewing on the end of his quill trying to find the courage to write it, before he gives up and writes without thinking. That's another Malfoy trait he loves, his blind spontaneity. He smiles and hugs the letter to his chest and picks up the letter he had wrote and tears it to shreds. He can't think of much else to say, but he pens his letter anyway.

Draco,

I love you too

R.W.

He lets Pig go with the letter, then crosses his room and closes the window. He lays down on his bed and reads the letter 5 times more and each time smiles even bigger. He folds the letter back up and sticks it under his bed. It's only then he realizes that he's stopped shivering. He reckons he'll be warm for a long time to come.

Maybe long enough to last until Spring.

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A/N: If you liked it, review and tell me! (Also, this is one-shot fic I am 99.9% sure, so dont expect more, ok?)