Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this work of fiction, and no profit is being made through the writing of this, monetary or otherwise.
A/N: Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's July Fortnight Two, Going Postal. Section 4: Prompts: Washi Tape, Maroon and Plaid. This is set in the same 'universe' as "Dear Dream Diary," "Pay Attention to Me," and "Like a Lost Puppy," in which Ron is infatuated with Draco because of a dream that he had.
"Mum's really outdone herself this year," Ron says a little forlornly as he holds up the maroon, plaid shirt that she's made for him.
He and Draco are sitting on one of the loveseats in Gryffindor's common room, the fire's crackling merrily in the fireplace, Harry and the others who'd stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas have gone outdoors to play in freshly fallen snow, leaving the two of them alone in the common room.
His parents are in Japan for Christmas, a second honeymoon that Draco's parents had given them for the holidays. It was funny how quickly the unspoken feud between the Malfoys and Weasleys had dissipated when Ron and Draco had finally told their parents that they were dating. It had been a nerve wracking experience.
Draco hides a smile behind his hand as he pulls out Molly Weasley's gift for him, a knitted sweater, with matching mittens, scarf and hat, in a colour that matches his eyes perfectly. He swallows, hands shaking as he pulls the sweater from its impeccable wrapping - some delicate Japanese wrapping paper decorated with thousands of tiny flying paper cranes - and tugs it on over the simple Muggle shirt that Harry (in a show of acceptance) had given him for Christmas.
"It feels like silk," Draco says, voice filled with awe. When he raises his head, Ron can see tears glistening in his boyfriend's eyes and his heart is flooded with fresh love for the other boy.
"You get perfection wrapped in fancy paper and washi tape that's straight from Japan, and I get a shirt in a colour that clashes with my hair, made in a pattern that makes me look like a walking chessboard," Ron laments.
Really, he's secretly thrilled that his mother has made something so beautiful for the boy that he's grown, over the past four months, to love more and more with each passing day. A boy that he's starting to think that maybe he wouldn't mind spending the rest of his life with, provided, of course that Draco wouldn't mind spending the rest of his life with him.
It's not as scary a thought as he once feared it would be - picturing his future self tied down to one witch or wizard rather than 'playing the field' - instead, it's comforting in a way that little else is with He Who Must Not Be Named on the rise, and with his future looking much less certain than it had when he'd been a little boy daydreaming of playing professional Quidditch for the Chudley Cannons, giving his parents money to fix up their home, maybe travel some. No, the future isn't looking quite as bright as it used to, but Ron thinks that maybe it won't be as dark as he'd started to think it would.
Ron rests his head on Draco's shoulder, and focuses on his boyfriend, the washi tape that somehow got stuck to one of his slightly pink cheeks, the happy, unguarded smile on his face as he runs his fingers over the beautiful sweater that Ron's mother knit for him.
No, Ron dares to think, With Draco by my side, the future won't be dark at all, no matter who wins the war.
