Hello! Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!
In honour of Christmas Day (which, as of like five minutes ago, is right now) I've decided to post this little one shot. Just FYI, a couple of the characters are totally OOC, but oh well. But there's a bunch of Christmassy goodness, and even more fluff! Enjoy!
Also, leave a comment if you pleasee :)
The Perfect Christmas Dinner
All Hermione Granger wants is to cook the perfect Christmas dinner for her family. What she gets, however, is far from perfect. Or is it?
X
Christmas Day
4:45 p.m.
"Christmas is ruined!" Hermione Granger screams, throwing her oven mitt covered hands into the air with wild frustration.
"Christmas isn't ruined, Luv," one Draco Malfoy tells her calmly. He reaches for her waist to pull her against him in an attempt to calm her down.
She shrugs him off, pulling the oven mitts off roughly and throwing them on the counter. "Yes, it is! I've burned the turkey, our parents are fighting like always, the children are giving me a headache and the tree lights aren't working!" she exclaims, breathing heavily as a tear trickles down her cheek.
"Granger, you need to calm down-"
"Don't tell me to calm down! I've ruined Christmas!"
Draco sighs softly, "we can fix it, Luv. It'll all be fine," he tells her softly.
"It won't be fine," she whispers, sniffing back tears of frustration. "This is our first time hosting Christmas dinner and I've ruined it." She whips her red and white apron off from around her waist and tosses it on the counter with her mitts before slipping past him and through the living room. She ignores the curious glances of her family members as she runs up the stairs.
Draco groans, following her. He takes two steps at a time, calling out to her. "Granger! Granger, honey, c'mon," he calls to her. He's fast, but she's faster, slipping into their bedroom and shutting and locking the door before he can get to her. He curses softly, knocking on the door. "Granger, open the door."
"Go away," she mutters from inside the room.
"Baby, please open the door," he says softly. Normally he'd use a simple spell to unlock the door himself, but he's left his wand downstairs. "Baby-"
"Just go away!"
He sighs loudly, leaning his back against the door. Happy Christmas, he thinks bitterly.
X
10 Hours Earlier
6:40 a.m.
Draco Malfoy has always been a light sleeper. It's a habit he'd picked up during his childhood living in the Malfoy Manor. While is life is a lot...easier and happier now, his sleep patterns haven't changed much. Especially on Christmas Eve.
He wakes up for the third time tonight and rolls over to wrap his arm around his fiancé and snuggle up to her warm body. Keeping his eyes closed, he reaches out for her-
-only she's not there. His eyes snap open and he sits up quickly, panic striking him in the chest. Where could she be? It's Christmas Eve…
Noise from somewhere downstairs startles him and he breathes a sigh of relief. Pushing the covers off, he climbs to his feet and slips his feet into his slippers. He adjusts the waistband on his pajama pants and tugs on his old tattered t-shirt as he shuffles his way out of the room and downstairs. Yawning, he pushes his hands through his hair. He stops in the kitchen doorway, leaning on the frame with his hands in his pants pockets, watching her. Her hazelnut brown hair is thrown up in a messy bun on the top of her head, and she's wearing nothing but a pair of pajama shorts and an old t-shirt. She's standing in front of the oven, her arms at work. A confused, albeit amused smile spreads across his cool, thin lips. "What are you doing?" he asks softly.
Hermione gasps, jumping as she spins around to face him, her hand on her chest. "God, Draco! You scared me!" she scolds him, picking up a dish towel and tossing it across the kitchen at him.
He chuckles softly, reaching a hand out to catch the towel. He pushes himself away from the doorframe and crosses the room, fiddling with the towel between his fingers. "What are doing up this early in the morning?" he asks curiously, planting a kiss on her forehead before peering over her shoulder. There's a large black pot-like thing sitting on the stove with an uncooked turkey sitting inside.
She smiles up at him and turns back around, grabbing hold of the handles. "I've decided to cook the turkey the muggle way instead of using magic," she replies.
"What? But I thought we were going to-"
"I know, I know," she says absentmindedly. "But my parents are coming, and they love the smell of the turkey cooking. Plus it's a tradition in my family and I want to carry on the tradition."
"But you're a witch. You have magic, remember? You don't use it nearly as often as you should," he points out.
"Because I'm also a muggle. Some things can only be done with magic, and that's fine. But some things should be done the muggle way, even if it can be done by magic," she tells him softly.
"I just think it's a lot of work. We're having a lot of people over, you know."
"Exciting isn't it?" she asks, glancing back at him with a smile. "Now move, I have to put this in the oven."
He groans, removing his arms from around her waist as he steps back to give her some room. He watches her as she places a lid on the pot-thing and then places it inside the oven. And can he help it if he also admires her bum?
She stands up straight, turning back around to face him and slips her arms around his neck. He smiles, slipping his around her waist. "This is gonna be the best Christmas ever," she whispers, leaning up to kiss him softly.
He hums with approval. "Can we go back to bed now?"
"You didn't have to get up, you know," she points out.
"Well, hmm. I woke up and you weren't there. And you know I can't sleep without you there," he murmurs.
She giggles softly. "Let's go back to bed."
X
10:53 a.m.
"Are we ready for this?"
Hermione looks behind her, her gaze landing on Draco. He's standing in the doorway to the family room, watching her as she adjusts a few of the decorations on the Christmas Tree. "Ready for what?" she asks curiously, turning back to the tree. She grabs a dark blue ball, thinks for a minute, and then puts it back.
Draco steps into the room, his hands in his pockets. "This...dinner. This is huge, Luv. We've never hosted before-especially for this many people."
She nods thoughtfully, crossing her arms over her chest. It isn't just a small, family gathering for dinner. It's the Malfoys, the Grangers and all of the Weasley's and their families-children included. A complete and total houseful. She turns around to look at him, smiling affectionately as she reaches out to him, slipping her arms around his waist. "I know," she says softly. "But I've seen my parents do it a hundred times-and Mrs. Weasley. I think we're ready, don't you?"
He grins, nipping the tip of her nose. "When I'm with you, I'm ready for anything."
She smiles, tilting her head back as she stretches up to his level to kiss him. He deepens it, pulling her closer with one arm while his other hand slips under the hem of her shirt.
As if on cue the doorbell rings and they both pull away, groaning loudly. Hermione adjusts her shirt and Draco fixes his hair before they both go to answer the door, hand in hand. Her parents are on the other side, each of them carrying arm fills of Christmas gifts. They exchange hellos, and Hermione pulls the door open all the way as Draco steps forward to help her mother. Mrs. Granger thanks him with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek before he turns and carries the gifts into the family room to place them under the tree. Her father follows, and both woman watch fondly as the men adjust the boxes and then stand back to admire their work.
A few moments later, once the coats have been hung up in the closet and her parents have taken a seat in the living room, Draco excuses himself to make some tea. Hermione follows shortly after, slipping her arms around his waist from behind. He hums in satisfaction.
"I love that you and dad get along so well," she murmurs against the fabric of his dress shirt.
He chuckles softly and she feels the vibrations on her lips. "Your father's an easy man to get along with."
"Except when it comes to your father," she points out reasonably.
"Yes, well... My father is an exception, period." He cranes his neck to steal a kiss from her.
"I'm gonna go upstairs and change real quick before everyone else gets here," she tells him, pulling away.
"Need help?" he wonders suggestively.
She rolls her eyes, smiling nonetheless as she backs out of the kitchen.
X
1:26 p.m.
"Auntie 'Mione," the little voice of four year old James Potter calls, walking into the kitchen, where Hermione is currently basting the turkey with the baster.
"Just a minute James," she responds absentmindedly, focusing wholeheartedly on the bird in front of her.
"But Auntie 'Mione-"
"Just one minute, okay James?"
Once she places the turkey back into the oven and closes the door, she turns to face the little boy-who's a spitting image of his father. "Now, what can I do for you?"
"The tree is broken."
"Broken? What do you mean the tree is broken, honey?" she asks, confused. Surely the tree can't be broken, it's real.
"The lights aren't working," he tells her innocently.
She bends down to pick him up, balancing him on her hip. "Why don't we go see what we can do to fix that?" Little James nods in approval.
Moments later Hermione finds Draco in the dining room talking to Harry and Ron about this year's Quidditch season. "Draco," she calls, walking into their conversation.
"Yes, Luv?" he asks, reaching for her waist.
"The lights on the tree aren't working."
He stares at her blankly. "What?"
"They aren't working."
"And..?"
"And we need to fix them," she tells him.
"I dunno how to do that," he reminds her. "You did it, remember?"
"Well, yes, but-"
"I'll fix it," Harry offers, clapping his hands together. "The lights on the house stopped working one year at the Dursley's and Vernon made me fix it. Usually it's just because one of the lights isn't all the way in."
She smiles appreciatively. "Thanks Harry."
X
2:13 p.m.
The house is in absolute disarray. There are so many people and bodies that she's beginning to feel claustrophobic. There are five-or is it six(?)-children running around the house playing tag and screaming and yelling. There are nearly a hundred (okay so there's probably only five) conversations going on the same time-two of which have turned into arguments between her mother and Narcissa Malfoy, and her father and Lucius Malfoy. And in addition to keeping an eye on the turkey, Hermione is also in the midst of cutting up vegetables-with Ginny's help. And Draco is nowhere to be seen. Until now.
She looks up as her blond fiancé walks into the kitchen. "Bloody hell, I can hardly hear myself think," he mutters, running a hand through his hair. He places a chaste kiss on her temple and his hand grazes her back as he reaches for a bottle of water from the fridge.
"Where have you been?" she asks him flatly.
"Me? I went out to shovel some snow so we don't get snowed in. It's snowing cats and dogs out there."
"It's raining cats and dogs," she whispers.
He chucked softly. "No, I'm pretty sure it's snowing, Luv."
"No, I mean the saying is: it's raining cats and-nevermind," she replies, changing her mind. She shakes her head, continuing to chop vegetables.
"You know if you used magic it'd be a whole lot faster," he points out.
"Or perhaps if you helped, it'd go faster as well," she snaps.
He raises his eyebrows at Ginny, who shrugs in response. "You know I'm no good with knives."
"Mhmm."
He frowns, placing his bottle on the counter before placing both hands on her shoulders. "You're tense. Why are you so tense?"
"Gee, I dunno, why don't you look around Draco? The house is in complete chaos," she replies.
"I told you, it's a lot of people-"
"It isn't about the people," she mutters, shaking her head slightly. "It's about the fact that the kids are running around like it's a marathon, and our parents are fighting-like usual."
"Honey, that's what kids do," he points out softly. "Especially on Christmas. And that's what our parents do, you know that."
"Do you want me to tell the kids to stop?" Ginny offers.
Hermione sighs softly, shaking her head. "No... It's fine, I just-"
A loud crash from inside the family room interrupts her. Within seconds Ginny, Hermione and Draco appear in the room. Everyone is frozen in shock, looking from Hermione to James, who is standing guiltily in front of a pile of broken glass. They both look like they're about to cry.
"I'm sorry Auntie 'Mione, I just wanted to look at it," he whispers, his bottom lip quivering.
She doesn't say anything. Instead she kneels down in front of the mess, picking up one of the shards carefully, her gaze glued to the sparkling crystal.
"Auntie 'Mione..?" James asks, now holding onto his father's leg as Harry brushes his sons hair comfortingly.
"It's okay, James," she whispers back.
"Do you want some help?"
"Oh no no," Harry replies for her, picking the boy up and holding him on his hip. "Don't ever touch broken glass, okay? Only adults can touch broken glass."
Hermione is still on the floor when Draco bends down beside her. "I'll get it, Luv," he whispers in her ear, kissing the side of her head.
"I'll buy you another one Auntie 'Mione," James tells her, earning a collective 'aww', from everyone in the room.
"Don't worry about it, mate," Draco replies, looking up at the boy wrapped around his father's neck. "It's nothing a little magic can't fix."
Hermione pushes herself to her feet, smiling at James despite the tears still in her eyes. "I forgive you, James," she says softly, kissing on the forehead.
"What, I don't get a kiss?" Harry asks, making everyone laugh.
Hermione rolls her eyes playfully, leaning forward to kiss his forehead too. "There, like father, like son."
"Hey, I have an idea," Draco says, holding a now fully fixed ornament in his hands. "How about we go outside and play in the snow?" he suggests, sending Hermione a glance as if to tell her it'll get the kids out of the house and give her some quiet time. The children all cheer in approval, running to the front closet to put on their snowsuits.
X
3:30 p.m.
Hermione groans, rubbing her temples as she leans over the counter. Her headache hasn't gotten any better since Draco, Harry and Ron took the kids outside to play in the snow. In fact, it's only gotten worse, what with her mother constantly bickering with Narcissa about the latest fashion trends and her father arguing with Lucius about whether football is more exciting than Quidditch. The only people who aren't bothering her are Arthur, Molly, Ginny, George and Percy. (George and Percy being outside with the rest of the children). She glances out the kitchen window, watching them run around the backyard, tossing snowballs and making snow angels.
"Hermione!"
The brunette sighs, walking into the living room where the rest of the adults are. Her mother looks at her expectantly. "What?"
"Darling, tell Narcissa, here, that scarves are always in style," her mother says.
This is the last straw, she thinks, as she place her glass of water on the coffee table and looks between both women. "I honestly couldn't care less," she replies. Both women look shocked at her tone. "I don't care about scarves and I don't care about fashion and I think it's really pathetic that the two of you always have to find something to bicker about! You don't have to like each other, that's fine, but for goodness sake you're grown women! You could at least try to get along one day out of the year!" She ignores the wide eyes of both women and turns, instead, to the two men in the corner of the room. "And the two of you! Who cares which sport is more exciting? It's a bloody game, for God's sake, they're both exciting! The two of you are just as bad if not worse than the two of them and all four of you are acting like children!"
Without another word she marches out of the room, through the kitchen and out the back door. The air is cold and dry on her bare arms, but she doesn't care. She feels like she's about to explode with anger and frustration, tears gathering in her eyes all over again.
"Granger!"
She looks up to see everyone looking at her. Her fiancé with his arms stretched out.
"Put a coat on, you lunatic, you'll freeze," he tells her, grinning playfully. "Better yet, let me," he offers on a second thought. With a flick of his wrist, she's wearing a coat.
"Auntie 'Mione! Come play with us!" James calls out to her.
"Oh, no, I can't James," Hermione replies. "I have to stay close to the kitchen."
"Aw, c'mon pleaseeee!" he begs.
Draco shakes his head, patting the young Potter's. "She won't do it, mate. She's too chicken," he says knowingly, his gaze boring into hers.
Her eyes widen and she crosses her arms over her chest. "Chicken?"
"Yeah, chicken."
"I'm not a chicken," she denies.
"Alright then, prove it," he challenges. When she doesn't do anything he rolls his eyes, turning to James. "See, I told you-"
He's interrupted by a snowball hitting and splattering against the back of his head. He glances over his shoulder at his fiancé, who's repeatedly tossing another snowball into the air and catching it. He turns around entirely, smirking at her. "Oh, it's like that, is it?"
She nods, throwing the snowball at him.
He ducks, chucking softly. "Alright then, game on."
A few moments later Draco is running towards her. She squeals as he catches her around the waist, spins her and then pins her to the railing around the porch. "Hello," her murmurs, pressing his lips against hers softly.
She hums her greeting, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"You okay?"
"I am now..."
"Oi!" Ron tells at them from across the yard. "No snogging on the battlefield!"
"Yeah!" James pipes up. "No snogging on the battlefield!"
X
4:35 p.m.
Once everyone is inside and their coats are dried and hung back up in the closet, they gather once more in the living and family rooms. Hermione is chatting away with Arthur and Molly when Draco comes up behind her, placing his hand on the small of her back. "Granger."
"Hmm?"
"There's smoke in the kitchen-"
"Oh my God," she mutters, her eyes wide with something like fear. She pushes past him and runs into the kitchen, coughing on the smoke and she pulls the oven door open. More smoke billows out of the appliance and she grabs the oven mitts to bat it away. The fire alarms start going off (BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!). The children start crying because they don't know what it is or why it's happening. And Hermione begins to panic. "No no no," she mutters, pulling the roasting pan out of the oven. She hesitates, barely aware that Draco is looking over her shoulder, before lifting the lid.
The turkey is completely charred.
She frowns, her shoulders slouching as more tears gather in her eyes.
"Is it supposed to look like that?" Draco asks curiously.
"No, it's not," she mutters. She grabs a fork out of the drawer. Perhaps it isn't burnt all the way through, she thinks hopefully, as she pokes it with a fork. The fork doesn't even pierce the skin. "I've burned the turkey..." she trails, running her hands through her hair.
"Well, I mean, we can fix it right?" he asks.
"Fix it?" she asks, spinning around to face him. "No we can't fix it, it's burnt! How are we meant to fix it?"
"I-I dunno-"
"Christmas is ruined!" Hermione Granger screams, throwing her oven mitt covered hands into the air with wild frustration.
"Christmas isn't ruined, Luv," one Draco Malfoy tells her calmly. He reaches for her waist to pull her against him in an attempt to calm her down.
She shrugs him off, pulling the oven mitts off roughly and throwing them on the counter. "Yes, it is! I've burned the turkey, our parents are fighting like always, the children are giving me a headache and the tree lights aren't working!" she exclaims, breathing heavily as a tear trickles down her cheek.
"Granger, you need to calm down-"
"Don't tell me to calm down! I've ruined Christmas!"
Draco sighs softly, "we can fix it, Luv. It'll all be fine," he tells her softly.
"It won't be fine," she whispers, sniffing back tears of frustration. "This is our first time hosting Christmas dinner and I've ruined it." She whips her red and white apron off from around her waist and tosses it on the counter with her mitts before slipping past him and through the living room. She ignores the curious glances of her family members as she runs up the stairs.
Draco groans, following her. He takes two steps at a time, calling out to her. "Granger! Granger, honey, c'mon," he calls to her. He's fast, but she's faster, slipping into their bedroom and shutting and locking the door before he can get to her. He curses softly, knocking on the door. "Granger open the door."
"Go away," she mutters from inside the room.
"Baby, please open the door," he says softly. Normally he'd use a simple spell to unlock the door himself, but he's left his wand downstairs. "Baby-"
"Just go away!"
He sighs loudly, leaning his back against the door. Happy Christmas, he thinks bitterly.
And then suddenly he gets an idea.
X
5:30 p.m.
With a soft flick of his wrist, the door to his bedroom unlocks. When he doesn't hear protesting on the other side, he pushes the door open slowly and quietly. Rather than seeing her, he sees a giant lump under the covers in the middle of their king sized bed. He closes the door behind him and tip toes across the room before climbing on the bed. "Granger," he whispers. When she doesn't answer he lays back on the mattress, his arms behind his head. "At least make some noise so I know you're still alive."
She makes a sort of strangled moan noise.
He chuckles softly. "It's been 45 minutes, Luv. Don't you think it's time to come back downstairs."
Hermione struggles to push the covers off of her and then brush her hair out of her face. She pushes herself into a sitting position across from her fiancé. "I over reacted, didn't I?"
"Just a bit, I reckon," he confirms, smirking in amusement.
"Ugh, well then I can't go back down there," she mutters, looking down at the covers.
He rolls his eyes playfully, sitting forward to look at her properly, tilting her face upwards with the tip of his finger. "They've forgotten all about it."
"Really?" she whispers, sniffing back tears.
"Well, no-"
She groans, pushing his hand away from her.
"-but they know you didn't mean it," he finishes.
She sighs loudly, running a hand through her hair. "I'm just...so frustrated, you know?"
"Come here," he murmurs softly, opening his arms.
She crawls across the bed and in between his legs, snuggling into his chest. His arms fall into place around her and for the first time all afternoon she feels at peace.
"Why are you so stressed out? Hmm?" he asks softly.
"I just... I wanted everything to be perfect," she whispers, playing with one of the buttons on his shirt. "It's our first time hosting Christmas dinner, Draco. I... I guess I just didn't want to let anybody down, you know?"
"You haven't let anyone down," he protests, kissing the top of her head as he smooths out her hair. Five years ago he wouldn't have been caught dead in this position.
"It feels like I have..."
"You haven't. You just hold yourself up to impossibly high standards, Luv. Nobody was expecting this to be perfect-least of all our parents. They're sorry for fighting by the way," he tells her, leaning his head back against the headboard. "Besides, even if they were expecting perfection, they're still having a good time. You'd know that if you came downstairs," he teases.
She giggles softly, pulling away from him. "I guess you're right," she says softly, wiping her cheeks dry.
He smiles, reaching his left hand out to caress her cheek affectionately, before leaning in to kiss her. "What's up with you today? You've cried more today than you have all year."
"Just...frustration," she whispers, licking her lip. "Emotions. Hormones. It's Christmas-"
"Right, Christmas. And we have folks waiting for us downstairs," he replies, climbing out of the bed. He offers her his hand, pulling her to her feet.
She pulls her skinny jeans down her legs to cover her ankles and adjusts her silvery-sequined top. Then she turns to him, fixes his collar, brushing out his shoulders and smiles up at him.
A few moments later, Hermione is greeted by a beautiful, albeit odd, sight. The kids, who had previously been running around the house like raging (yet adorable) lunatics, are sitting quietly at their own little table set up in the dining room. James waves at her, flashing her a smile before he goes back to his colouring.
Her mother and Narcissa are in the midst of setting the dining room table for the adults-and they're getting along. Her father and Lucius are currently carving another perfectly cooked turkey-and they too are getting along. Everyone else is chatting quietly in the family room, where the tree lights are now in working order.
She looks sideways at Draco, whose hands are stuffed into his pockets as he looks back. "How'd you-?
"Call it a Christmas miracle," he murmurs, slipping his arm around her waist.
"Thank you," she whispers tearfully.
"Quit with the tears, would you," he teases, nudging the side of her head with his nose.
"Tears? What tears?" Harry wonders, walking up to them. "It's Christmas, there shouldn't be any tears."
She smiles softly, stepping forward to hug him.
"Alright everyone, dinner is served!" exclaims her father, carrying a platter of turkey pieces.
X
Christmas Eve, Eve
7:30 p.m.
Hermione sighs in content, leaning back against Draco's chest a he tightens his grip around her waist. Everyone is gathered in the family room now, sitting by the tree and opening their gifts. She watches James' face light up with joy as he rips the remaining wrapping paper off of his new toy broom. She watches Ginny's eyes fill with tears when she opens a brand new pair of earrings, and her mother gasp in surprise at the photo album in her lap.
Everyone is happy. Everything is perfect. Everything has worked itself-with Draco's help, of course. And with a little bit of magic.
Her arm falls comfortably around her middle. She smiles softly, watching her family and friends, and she knows. She knows that now is the perfect time. Clearing her throat, she pushes herself to her feet. Draco looks at her questioningly and she smiles at him before turning her attention to everyone else. "I'd um...I'd like to make an announcement. As all of you know, Draco and I have been trying to get pregnant for six months now." Out of the corner of her eye she sees Draco sit up straight, watching her and listening with bated breathe. "And, well, as it turns out...it's worked," she finishes, smiling brightly.
"I knew there was a reason you were glowing!" Ginny exclaims excitedly.
"What-it worked?" Draco asks softly, pushing himself to his feet. His gaze never leaves her as he takes her hand and turns her sideways to look at him. "You...you're pregnant?"
She nods, smiling as tears of happiness shine in her eyes. "Y-yeah," she chokes. "Yes."
"We're having a baby?" he asks, looking hopeful and anxious.
"Yes," she giggles.
No sooner as the confirmation leave her lips does he grin, grab her by the waist, lift her off the ground and spin her around in one-two-three circles. She giggles, bending her legs at the knees as she holds onto his neck. He's making a sort of victory noise and a victory dance and everyone else is smiling and laughing and congratulating them and it's perfect. He sets her back down on her feet steadily, pressing his forehead against her. "We're having a baby," he murmurs, brushing his nose against hers.
"We're having a baby," she whispers back.
And then they're being hounded with hugs and kisses and congratulations'.
X
9:30 p.m.
Hermione loves her family. And her friends. But after bidding goodbye to her parents-the last people to leave the house-she can't help but breathe a sigh of relief. She leans back against the door, her right hand resting on her still flat stomach. She smiles to herself, her smile widening when her handsome fiancé enters the foyer. He leans against the doorframe to the family room, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers. "So..."
"So..." she whispers back.
He cocks his head to the side, motioning for her to come closer. She does so, crossing the foyer towards him. He extends his hand to her and she slips hers into his and then pulls him into the family room. She pushes him carefully onto the couch and he smirks, reaching for her hops as she straddles his lap. He runs his hands up and down her thighs as she runs her hands through his already messy blond hair. "Thank you," she whispers, resting her forehead on his.
Draco shakes his head, cradling her face in his right hand. "I should be thanking you, for giving the most amazing Christmas Present anyone as ever given me," he murmurs.
"Well, you helped," she teases.
He smirks, "that I did, I suppose."
"I have a doctor's appointment next week-"
"Great, I'll take the day off work."
She smiles, snuggling into his chest. "Happy Christmas Draco."
"Happy Christmas Luv. I love you so much."
FIN