Disclaimer: Not Mine.

Author's Notes: Written each day for Livejournal's AWDT community, using Christmas picture prompts. I hope you enjoy the first week. In a couple of days I'll post the second week's ficlets, or you can follow them daily on Livejournal.

Have a Merry Christmas everyone and thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews and comments on my stories. Love you all muchly.

jamie

xxxxxxx

'You boys are going to need furniture in your new place,' Draco said to Scorpius and Albus at the breakfast table.

"Not to worry, Mr. Malfoy, Dad said we could rummage through the garage at Grimmauld place and see what old stuff is there. Apparently there's enough old furniture to furnish a whole house stacked away there.'

'I'm sure, Albus.' Draco grimaced. If that furniture was the rejects from that dark and gloomy house, then he was sure none of it would be fit for use. Not for Scorpius anyway. The apple hadn't fallen far from the tree there, he thought proudly, looking at his eighteen-year-old son. 'However,' he continued, 'I suggest that you look in the attic here. I'm sure that you will find something eminently suitable.'

'Thanks, dad,' Scorpius replied stuffing his face with eggs.

Well, perhaps Scorpius' manners left something to be desired. Draco attributed that to Astoria, and thanked Merlin that she was now gone form their lives. 'Eat your eggs with some decorum, Scorpius,' he admonished.

Scorpius scowled but did as he was bid.

…

'Hey, Al, come here!' Scorpius cried.

Scorpius was covered in dust and hot and sweaty. Being in the attic of the Manor, searching through possibly centuries old obsolete furniture and bric-a–brac was hard work. Al thought Scorpius looked gorgeous, not that he would ever tell Scorpius that. A six year long friendship was too important to throw away by making some insane remark about having feelings for his best friend. And Al wasn't insane.

'What?' he asked. Scorpius was standing with his back to Al, looking at something in the far corner of the room.

Scorpius turned and smiled widely at Al. 'It's a sleigh.'

'A what?'

'Look!' Scorpius said, moving aside. Sure enough, sitting snug under the sloping eaves was a bright blue sleigh.

'Wow, it looks brand new.'

'It was covered with a sheet to preserve it.' Scorpius said and held up a dusty white sheet.

'Even so, it looks extraordinarily well cared for. I wonder how it got all the way up here. Aren't you supposed to keep those things in the garage or something?'

Scorpius shrugged. 'I guess. I wonder who it belonged to.'

'We could ask your father.'

'Right'. As soon as we find some furniture for your bedroom in the new flat, we'll go and ask him.'

Al smiled. He could bring his bed from home but Mr. Malfoy had been so nice offering, and he really wanted to keep a room at home, just in case. He ran his hand over the clean smooth lines of the sleigh, testing the little door by opening it. The hinges had been well oiled, as they made no noise. 'It looks so well cared for, I bet it has an interesting story,' Al said.

Scorpius rolled his eyes and punched Al in the arm lightly. 'Probably some stupid romantic girly thing.'

'Probably,' Al agreed rubbing his arm. 'Anyway, find me a bed, squire, and hurry up about it.' Al laughed and became involved in furniture hunting.

***

God, what he wouldn't give for one of those cool drinks he saw the bar staff handing out. Harry promised himself one as soon as his watch was over. He'd spent several hours hiding under his Invisibility cloak, examining the movements of the guests in the Hotel. The end of his shift wouldn't be long now, he told himself, letting his eyes drift toward the pristine sand that braced an azure sea that was almost an exact replica of the colour in the sky.

He licked his lips in anticipation of the sweet tropical fruit drink that was in his future. If only there was a cool breeze, he would feel so much more comfortable. He sighed and turned his attention back to the numerous guests spread out across the decking, enjoying happy hour.

His target was supposed to be a middle aged wizard, who, according to the local MLE officers, stood out like a sore thumb, insisting on wearing clothes more suited to an English winter than a tropical summer. There had been no sightings of the man, though; all the guests seemed to be casually dressed in very little at all. Harry was sure that were he still single, more than one of them would have earned more than a cursory glance.

But there had been nothing and Harry's frustration level was rising, not from the boredom alone, but the fact that unless he managed to wrap up this case quickly, he would miss Christmas at home – his utterly gorgeous and very close to his heart, White Christmas.

There was something inherently wrong with being on this side of the world where the seasons were all arse about. He should be trudging through the snow, searching for the perfect tree to bring home to his family, instead of sweating it out under his cloak.

A touch on his shoulder made him jump. He turned and saw his temporary partner, Simon. 'How the hell did you know I was here?' he hissed from under the Cloak.

'The scuff marks you're leaving on the sand,' Simon replied, grinning madly. 'Thought you'd know better than to place yourself where that sort of thing could happen.'

'Not used to hunkering down on sand,' Harry grouched, no less impressed with Simon's observation skills.

'No worries. Your shift is done, I can take over now. Anything of interest?'

Harry shook his head, even though Simon could not see it. 'Nothing other than the ladies are making a killing this afternoon.'

'They look to be, yeah. This close to Christmas the businessmen traveling alone are looking for a bit of company.'

'Well, no sign of our boy, anyway. Maybe he's peddling his stuff at a different hotel?'

'Could be, but we haven't received any intelligence in regards to that. Don't sweat it, man, he'll be around sooner or later, that type always come back. And then we'll get him. You head off and rest.'

'Good man.' Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He was desperate to freshen up. 'See you in the morning. Good luck,' Harry said as he left.

…

'Did you boys find plenty of furniture?' Draco asked both boys as they came down the staircase, laughing and dusty as the attic must have been.

'We did, thanks Mr Malfoy,' Albus replied. 'They're all shrunk and neatly packed into a box we'll take there later.'

'Of course, Al decided he wanted the old queen sized bed, instead of a normal one,' Scorpius said, giving his friend an exasperated look. 'No class.'

'Hey!' Al protested. 'It's got character.'

'The four-poster with the moth-eaten drapes?' Draco asked, grinning to himself. It had been his grandmother's bed, but he wasn't going to tell Albus that.

'That's the one. A few Charms and a bit of spit and polish and it will look amazing.'

'It will at that,' Draco agreed.

'Then you can lure all the ladies into your boudoir,' Scorpius teased.

Draco noticed Al's grin fade for an instant to one of intense pain when he looked at Scorpius. Then, so quickly that Draco wondered if he'd imagined the look it was replaced by a fake smile. Interesting.

'Oh, dad,' Scorpius said. 'We found and old blue sleigh up there, too.'

Draco actually felt the blood drain from his face.

'Yeah, we– Are you all right, Mr. Malfoy?'

Draco blinked and nodded curtly. 'Of course,' he said. 'I'd forgotten that was up there, I should have…' His voice trailed off as he looked at Albus.

'Who did it belong to? How did it get up there?' Scorpius asked, luckily seeming oblivious to Draco's discomfort.

For several moments Draco looked at both of the boys. Perhaps they were old enough to hear the story, then. Besides, it was all so long ago; it should have lost the power to hurt him anymore.

***

When Harry returned to his room at the small pub, he rang the front desk and ordered dinner. He would have loved to just flung himself down on the bed and slept, but the room was stuffy after having been shut up all day and the desultory twirling of the ceiling fan overhead was going to take a while to cool the room down. He flung open the window and took a deep breath of the fresher air and stood there for several minutes watching the sun lower to the horizon. At least the pub was situated near a headland and so he had a perfect view of the most magic sunsets he'd ever witnessed.

A quick shower later and he was feeling more refreshed but the pang of missing home and family was still there. With international communications the way they were, he couldn't send them an Owl, but he could Floo call them he realised after adjusting for the time differences. It should be mid afternoon, perhaps someone was home.

He tossed in some Floo powder, stuck his head in the fireplace and called out 'Grimmauld Place.'

Almost immediately he heard a squeak and then footsteps coming closer at a run. Lily bounded into the room with a huge smile on her face.

'Dad!'

'Hello, Lily, love.' He grinned.

'You coming home soon then?'

'Not sure. As soon as we finish this surveillance, I'll be home, I promise.'

'Will you make it in time for Christmas?'

'I hope so. So how is everyone?'

Dad, you only left yesterday,' she replied, rolling her eyes in that 'dad is such a sap' way she had. Harry laughed; they both loved that he was a bit of a sap when it came to his family.

'Humour me.'

'Albus is pilfering furniture from the Malfoys and James is at work, of course.'

'And your mother?'

Lily turned up her nose. 'She's gone shopping with that crazy team mate of hers.'

'Rhonda? And you didn't go with them?'

Lily scoffed. 'Are you kidding? All they do is comment on how in their days decent witches wouldn't be caught dead in the robes that are fashionable. I can buy my own clothes, thanks very much.'

Harry laughed again. 'Tell you what; I'll bring you something very fashionable and very Muggle when I come home. You can show off to your friends then.'

Lily beamed. 'They'll be so jealous. Thanks, Dad.'

'No problem. Anything for my princess.'

'Just make sure it's not orange, Dad. There's too much orange around here as it is.'

'All right, love.'

There was a knock on the door and so Harry said goodbye and promised to call again if he was going to be much longer. He answered the door and let the owner in with his dinner. She placed it on the table and smiled at him.

'I put a little something extra in there for you, Mr. Potter. Thought it might remind you of home.'

'Thanks,' he said smiling.

'See you tomorrow,' she said and left.

Harry sighed and sat down to his lonely hamburger and chips, ignoring the insipid looking fruit cake that he assumed was supposed to represent a real Christmas cake. Fruit cake made in a mould tin just wasn't the same.

…

Draco led the boys into the lounge and called Pippy to bring the boys some pumpkin juice and afternoon tea. Of course he was procrastinating now, not having planned to ever relate the story of this part of his life. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he even had the right to tell them this. It wasn't just his story to tell.

'The story needs juice and food, dad?' Scorpius asked.

'I merely thought you might be in need of a drink after spending hours in that dusty attic,' he replied.

'Good idea, Mr. Malfoy. I'm parched,' Albus said and flopped down on the couch beside Scorpius.

'Quite,' Draco said, falling silent for a moment while Pippy served up the refreshments. He studied Al as he and Scorpius joked around, and now he knew what he was looking for it was clear to see the depth of feeling Albus carried for his son. When he gave Scorpius the same attention, looking for any reciprocating sign, he could see none. He sighed, feeling sorry for both boys.

'Well, Dad, how about this story, then?' Scorpius asked.

He almost decided against telling them, but then he remembered the look on Al's face earlier and realised that the boy might be comforted by the story, after all.

He looked at Al. 'You know that your father and I hated each other during school, don't you?'

'Of course, it's in all the history books,' Al said.

Draco folded his hands under his chin. 'What you may not know, is that two years after the war, we had an affair.'

***

'Your father always was way too noble for his own good,' Draco said still looking at Albus who, despite appearing a bit shell shocked, managed to nod in reply. Scorpius sat there wide-eyed at the revelation, which wasn't unexpected. Draco could see Albus doing a mental calculation about the time line.

Draco continued. 'I didn't see your father for a long time after the war. The Ministry, as you know, confined me under house arrest for twelve months and, after the sentence was served, I suppose I was used to the solitude. It took me another year after my release before I gathered the courage to want to find him and thank him for what he did for me.' The story of how he'd saved Draco was well known and he had no need to expand.

'Still,' he began again, glancing at Albus. 'If it hadn't been for a joke advent calendar from your Uncle's shop, I might not have had the chance...'

….

The snow was heavy in Hogsmeade, and the village sparkled under its canopy; a brilliant white that lifted even Draco's spirits. The previous year, shopping had been a furtive expedition, completed with as little fanfare as possible, gifts chosen for expediency rather than choice. This year, Draco was determined to take the time to choose properly. He wasn't quite ready for the crowds in Diagon Alley yet, but Hogsmeade would suit his purpose.

His list was fairly short; just his mother, Teddy and Aunt Andromeda, along with Pansy and Blaise. He had also decided to buy his house-elf, Pippy, a gift. He knew he was taking the chance of insulting him, however the elf had been decent company through his incarceration, albeit having developed a disturbing sense of humour and a habit of smirking. Draco planned on surprising the elf with a trick from the Weasley shop recently opened in Hogsmeade.

It would have been impossible to miss the Weasley shop, even if there hadn't been a huge flashing sign hanging ten feet above the shop, shouting about the latest in trick Christmas decorations like 'Mooning Mistletoe' that made anyone standing under it drop their pants.

The windows of the shop were garishly decorated in every colour imaginable, displaying so many goods that Draco felt the effect had been lost. It was typical of Weasleys to overdo it, he thought as he pulled open the door and stepped inside.

The interior was as cluttered as the windows, and what felt like several hundred people were all shopping at once, filling the shop to overflowing. Draco's incarceration meant that he was unused to being around so many people all at once and he immediately felt the tension coiling in his stomach, the joy he'd felt at seeing the village evaporating in this closed environment.

He steeled himself to search for something for Pippy, muttering that the ingrate had better be pleased or else there might be clothes. Carefully stepping around customers, none of who even glanced at him, and being wary of bumping into any barrels of peculiar objects, he made his way along the shelves trying to find something that Pippy might enjoy.

On the wall he saw a poster for Christmas Advent calendars that held a different surprise each day. The poster declared that one day might hold a Canary Cream, the next a Pygmy Puff; one never knew until one opened the little door.

Draco smiled; Pippy would adore that. The little elf did get so excited by Christmas and Draco knew that seeing the elf change into a yellow canary for a short time would be vastly amusing.

He turned back to the shelves to find the brightly coloured package and saw, to his relief that there was one left. He reached out for it and, just as he grabbed it, another hand reached for the same thing. Draco refused to let go and was about to give the owner of the hand a lecture on polite behaviour, when he saw who it was and his voice died in his throat.

Draco swallowed and made himself speak. 'Potter. I think I had this first.'

'You're right, I can get Teddy something else,' Potter said and let go of the calendar, shocking Draco. 'Sorry about that.'

'It was for Teddy?' Draco asked. 'Oh, wouldn't he be too young? Some of these things seem a bit–'

Potter nodded. 'But he loves the penguins and I can't resist him. Never have been able to.'

'Yes, he winds Mother around his little finger, too.'

'I bet,' Potter replied, smiling. 'Who was yours for?'

'My house-elf would you believe?'

Potter laughed and it changed his face. He looked good, Draco realised, too good. He answered Potter's laughter with a smile.

'Don't tell Hermione that or she'll bombard you with calls trying to get you to join SPEW.'

'She's still running that bizarre club?'

'Trying to. Though with three members it's hardly a going concern.'

'Three?' Draco arched an eyebrow.

Potter nodded. 'Ron and I love her enough to stay members but no one else seems to care terribly much. Pretty sad, really.'

'They'd be devastated to be freed, though, Potter.'

'I know. I had one myself at one point. And Dobby sort of owned me. He was…' Potter stopped, frowning. Draco knew of the elf's death; it was in the history books, and he'd felt some regret when he'd found out how the brave elf had died. 'He was a friend.'

Draco nodded, thinking how odd it was standing in the middle of a joke shop with the boy, man now, that had been the bane of his existence, and having a civil conversation about a dead house-elf. Perhaps he should take the chance to do what he'd been gathering courage to do for a year…

'I wanted to apologise and thank you, Potter, for what you did for me…you know…after…'

Potter waved him aside. 'Your mum saved my life as did you. I'd say we're square, right?'

'If you insist,' Draco replied, relieved.

'And call me Harry.'

Draco was about to nod when several small children barreled down the aisle and crashed into Draco, sending him stumbling forward straight into Harry. Strong arms steadied him and when Draco looked up he found he was barely inches from Harry's face. For several moments he was caught up in surprised green eyes that, at first shone merrily, but soon turned serious and searching. Draco wondered why he'd always hated Harry's green eyes.

'Harry, then,' Draco breathed, unable to pull himself away from Harry's arms.

'Draco,' Harry replied, seemingly just as unwilling to let him go.

***

'That was the first time I'd felt anything approaching attraction for him,' Draco said. 'And, of course, nothing happened right here in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, but it was a start anyway. He asked me to take tea with him in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop.' Draco smiled as both boys grimaced – the place obviously hadn't changed since his day then.

'And you agreed?' Scorpius asked, doing a very passable imitation of Draco raising his eyebrow.

'I hardly cared where it was; the fact that it was a chance to start over was what mattered.' Draco gave the boys a small smile. He'd half expected them to cringe and ask for the short story, but they'd surprised him by showing interest. Unless they were still in shock. Draco rubbed his eyes and continued his story.

…

'Thank Merlin she's changed the décor in here,' Draco said as he stepped in to the Tea Rooms in front of Harry. 'It looks almost civilised now.'

'Watch it, you,' Harry said, laughing. 'I have to say that it's a far sight better than her Valentine's Day decorations.'

'It can't be hard to do better than stupid pink hearts and angry looking cupids,' Draco drawled.

'Did you ever bring anyone special here?' Harry asked.

Draco shook his head, looking sad momentarily. 'No, this place was far below the standards I was expected to live by. My father would have…' He stopped, furious with himself for bringing up his father and possibly ruining the mood.

A hand on his elbow directed him to a table and he sat down, whipping off his gloves and shoving them in his pocket just for something to keep him occupied so he didn't have to look at Harry.

'It's all right, Draco, you can talk about him if you want. God knows I'll probably find myself talking about those I loved that died, too. We have history, we'll have to learn to live with it.'

They ordered coffee, tea and some of the Yule log that was being offered. Seeing as it was Christmas, Harry said that he had a strange need to experience everything that was traditional, cheesy or just plain tacky about Christmas, seeing as he'd missed out on so many growing up. When their refreshments arrived, Draco stirred some sugar into his tea and picked it up, inhaling the aromatic steam.

'How do you live with it?' Draco asked. 'Your history, I mean.'

'By trying to remember that my future relies on the choices I make today and is as a result of the choices I've made every day of my life. I can choose to let all the fame and adulation turn me into an arrogant prat with nothing between my ears but where the next drink or shag is coming from, or I can use it to make other people's lives easier.'

'Ever the noble Gryffindor,' Draco said, not entirely teasing. 'What do you do when people don't let you make the choices you want to?'

Harry shrugged. 'I suppose you keep fighting until they change their minds.'

'Too easy to say that from your perspective, though,' Draco said. 'You're Harry Potter, you can do whatever you like.'

'No, I can't, not really. Every move I make is examined under a microscope.'

'Ah, now I know that feeling,' Draco said, sipping his tea. 'The things is, I think I'd rather have them following me because they love me, than following me to spit at me or throw rocks.'

'Make them stop,' Harry said. 'Stand up for yourself. The Wizengamot exonerated you. What have you been doing since the war ended?'

'Nothing,' Draco said. 'Same as a lot of people – learning how to live in a Voldemort free world.'

'A lot of people are helping to rebuild. You could do that, Draco. If you don't want people to spit on you or throw rocks, then do something that proves to them you're a decent human being.'

'What could I do? I'd hardly call having two years at the beck and call of the Dark Lord a good employment skill, and I didn't finish Hogwarts, either.'

'I'm sure there are many philanthropic avenues you could pursue if you wanted to find something.'

Draco shrugged and put own his tea cup, concentrating on his piece of cake instead. The chocolate icing and creamy filling were his favourite and he savoured a bite, closing his eyes as he chewed. When he opened them again, he found Harry staring intently at his lips. Draco felt he corner of his mouth curl up in a smile and he deliberately dragged his tongue across his bottom lip, watching in amusement as Harry's eyes followed his every move.

'Harry?' Draco asked softly, wanting to break Harry's stare so he could look into his eyes instead. It worked. Harry looked up and captured Draco's eyes. 'What are we doing?'

'I don't know. Does it matter?' Harry replied, smiling confidently. 'Can't we just take one day at a time and see where it leads us?'

Draco raised an eyebrow, not entirely surprised by the attitude. 'No plans then, just see what happens?'

'Sounds good to me.' Harry's hand reached out and covered Draco's where it lay on the table. Draco turned his hand over and curled his fingers through Harry's.

'Would this be what you meant by learning to live with our history?'

'Something like that,' Harry whispered and raised their joined hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to Draco's fingers.

'You're going to get me stoned or thrown into Azkaban for corrupting their hero, you do know this, don't you?' Draco could barely breathe, his heart was jumping around in his chest so much. He'd never imagined that he'd be in this position with Harry Potter but now he was, he found himself compelled to admit he liked it.

'I'm probably worth it.' Harry grinned and Draco believed him.

'Don't expect me to like your friends,' he warned.

'Don't expect me to save yours,' Harry shot back.

***

Draco took several seconds to collect his thoughts. He had many fond memories of his time with Harry, along with more painful ones than he cared to recollect. He wondered if, with the benefit of hindsight, he was endowing those good memories with more emotion and romance than there actually was. Some attempt to cling to how wonderful he'd felt then? Despite everything that happened later.

'Of course, we knew it was going to be difficult and Harry had a point. I had to learn to stand up for myself again.' Harry been right about so many things Draco barely even understood about himself.

'Was there a lot of backlash?' Al asked. Draco nodded. More than they'd expected really. They'd both been so young and naïve.

'Why did you tell everyone, then? It's not anyone else's business who you date,' Scorpius said, a frown on his face.

'It wasn't like we had a choice about it. Harry could barely walk down the street without being followed by people wanting something from him. It was a different time then – people were still so very grateful for having Voldemort gone.'

'Did he stand up for you?' Al asked quietly. 'In public, I mean?'

Draco smiled sadly. 'Of course he did. Your father…that's just how he was.'

….

'Draco, over here! The perfect tree!'

Draco laughed as he headed towards Harry's happy laughter. Christmas tree hunting was a new experience for both of them. In the past the Malfoy elves had always just procured the perfect tree for the parlour at the Manor. He had to admit this was a lot more fun; the smell of the pine trees permeated the whole area and put a bounce in his step.

As he rounded a corner he tripped over something protruding out about ankle height. Cursing, he fell, landing on his hands and knees, the puddles of partially melted snow soaking his trousers and ruining his leather gloves. 'Damn,' he said, and was about to stand when he felt a wand pressing into the side of his neck. He froze.

'Well, well, what a picture ye make, Malfoy. On your 'ands and knees in the mud and slush, right where ye belong.'

Draco didn't recognise the voice at all, but it hardly mattered; the malevolence in it couldn't mean anything good for Draco. That fact that he was defenseless right now didn't mean he had to stay that way.

'What do you want?' he said, jaw clenched tight.

'Mebbe little justice, Malfoy. A little vengeance, mebbe.'

'What have I ever done to you?' Draco tried to look around to identify who his attacker was but the wand jabbed into his neck harder and he gave up, committing the voice to memory instead.

'It's more tha' yer family dinna lose one single fing of any worth in the war.'

'I lost my father, you moron!'

'Like I said, nothin' of any worth.'

Draco growled and forced himself to his feet, despite being told to stay where he was. But if the man had intended to hurt him or kill him he would have done so already. So Draco ignored him and stood to face the man. He was in his fifties, fat and balding and shabbily dressed in clothes that looked like the dirt was the only thing holding them together.

Draco sneered. 'My father was worth ten of you,' he said and found the wand pointed directly at his chest.

The man laughed. 'Tha's very dangerous, seein' as I got me wand poked in yer chest. Could AK you as soon as look at ye.'

'And you're certifiably insane if you don't release him right now and go on your way.' Harry's calm voice came from the end of the row of snow-covered trees.

'I can handle this on my own, Harry,' Draco said, not taking his eyes off his attacker. 'He's just an uneducated boor with no idea about hygiene.' Draco wrinkled his nose appropriately at the smell.

'Right, then, I'll just leave you here to face an angry man who has a wand aimed at your chest while you insult him and make him angrier, shall I?'

'Yes, please.'

'Wait,' the man said, looking confused for a second and then angry. He pointed at Harry. 'You,' he roared. 'You piss off and I'll forget you was even 'ere.'

Harry ignored the man and crossed his arms. 'Draco, you don't even have your wand out.' Draco glanced at Harry and blinked. Harry was grinning at him!

Suddenly the hilarity of the situation dawned on Draco. This poor bloke wasn't any real threat; he was mostly all talk. Still, he did need some reminder about how to behave in the future. Draco winked at Harry.

'I don't need my wand to defend myself,' he said. He placed his hands on the man's shoulder and raised his knee sharply right into his groin. When he shrieked and fell down clutching his sore bits, Draco stepped over him and moved to Harry's side.

Harry grinned at him and then moved to stand over the man. He bent over him and whispered something that Draco could barely hear, but knew it was a threat to stay away from them in the future.

Then Harry moved back to his side. 'Don't have to worry about you not being able to look after yourself, do I?' He grinned.

'I'm learning to stand up for myself, but you look so damned good coming to my rescue, I'm thinking I will find myself needing your assistance from time to time.' Draco gave Harry a slow smile and Harry rolled his eyes.

'Yes, yes I am sure you will, now can we please go and grab this perfect tree before someone else takes it and I have to pull rank on them.' He grabbed Draco's hand and dragged him off; laughing when Draco pretended shock that Harry Potter would ever use his name to get what he wanted.

***

'Was everyone like that?' Al asked.

'Not everyone. Though in some ways Harry had a harder time over it than I did. Your Weasley relatives were not as accepting as they could have been.' Draco was very careful not to say just how difficult it had been for Harry telling them that he was dating a Malfoy. The one who'd been indirectly responsible for Bill's scarring at the hands of Greyback, and also indirectly responsible for poisoning Ron. Whose father had been responsible for Ginny almost dying in the Chamber of Secrets.

'And there's so many of them, he must have felt outnumbered,' Scorpius said, frowning.

'They're not a bad lot, really,' Al protested softly. 'At least you seem to like Rose,' he added with a teasing grin.

Scorpius blushed. 'She's really smart.'

'Rose Weasely? Really?' Draco asked. 'I thought you had more taste, son.'

Scorpius looked up, scowling at him but Draco laughed. 'I'm teasing. You can fall for whomever you like, I'll not stop you. As long as you're happy.' He happened to glance at Al as he spoke and saw the flash of jealousy mixed with defeated sorrow that crossed his face.

The parallels of the situation hadn't escaped him. Whilst Al had Rose Weasley as competition; he'd had the formidable Ginny.

…

Draco heard the whoosh of the Floo and went to greet the visitor, inordinately pleased when it turned out to be Harry. Of course Harry was still struggling to stand upright after his trip. Draco grinned at the spot of soot on Harry's cheek and after a quick hug, reached up and brushed it away.

'Hello, you,' he said. 'What are you doing here today? I thought we didn't have any plans until tomorrow.'

'Hello, to you, too,' Harry replied, planting a kiss on Draco's cheek. 'Thanks. I just stopped by to say that the Weasleys are putting up their Christmas tree tonight and I want you to come with me and meet them all.'

The smile faded from Draco's face. 'I can't, Harry. They all hate me.'

'But they love me and they'll accept who I am dating.'

'How do you know? All the things I did…'

'Are all in the past, remember?' Harry cupped Draco's cheek with his palm. 'I told you I'm not going to hide this away. We both have the right to move on and live our lives as we want to.'

When Harry put it that way, how could he argue? Because Draco knew Harry was right; he couldn't keep living in the past.

'All right, but if I end up in St Mungos because I've been hexed to within an inch of my life, I'll blame you.'

'Just be nice and they'll be nice in return.'

'I said I wasn't going to like your friends,' Draco reminded him.

'I didn't ask you to, but you can be civil, yeah? For me?' Harry kissed him then, deeply and convincingly and at that moment Draco believed anything was possible.

The belief lasted about as long as it took for the Weasley family to see just whom it was that Harry had brought with him.

When they arrived at the Burrow, Draco noticed that from the outside the place still looked like it would fall down in the slightest of breezes. Inside, the place was bedlam. There were people everywhere - mostly redheads - and the noise was deafening. Harry was grinning madly from ear to ear, obviously at home in this rambunctious environment. Draco wanted to screech at them all to just shut up and show some decorum.

Then he noticed that they were trying to coax some sort of animal out from between the branches of the Christmas tree. The poor animal was spitting and hissing; it sounded like a cat. Some were entreating it out with food, others were yelling at it and poking it. Harry and Draco's arrival went largely unnoticed in the melee.

After several moments, with Harry quietly laughing at his side, Draco rolled his eyes at their ineffective efforts. 'Oh, for heavens sake are you lot wizards or not?' he yelled over the noise. He took out his wand and cast a Stunning spell at the animal and all went quiet.

In the stunned silence, all present turned to look at both Harry and Draco, expressions ranging from confusion to disbelief and anger. Then Ginny squealed and launched herself at Harry, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him soundly on the mouth. And then all hell broke loose, but the only thing that registered for Draco was that Harry hadn't pushed her away.