This is a Christmas gift for my good friend Kaikiki! I love you!
Happy Christmas, everyone!
The process seemed all rather pointless to Draco Malfoy, really. He had never really understood the purpose of the majority of the holidays he was forced into celebrating, and Christmas was hardly an exception. Someone had told him that it was celebrating the birth of some famous muggle, but the only famous muggle he could think of was William Shakespeare and he seriously doubted that it was his birthday.
Still though, after both giving and receiving gifts for seventeen years, he still wasn't sure why. To be fair, he had never been a particularly generous person and had received more presents than he had given. Nevertheless, he had no idea what all the fuss was about.
Draco had only bought four gifts a year since he was fifteen, one each for his parents on their birthday and on Christmas. Before then he would just find parcels under the Christmas tree that said they were from him, but really weren't. He remembered on more than one occasion his father handing him a small, darkly-wrapped box and snapping, "You got this for your mother." Draco wanted to press that he hadn't, but he never did.
When his mother's birthday rolled around the year he had turned fifteen, his father, instead of giving Draco a gift from him to his mother, pressed a bag of Galleons into his palm and told him that he was old enough to buy his own gift.
It had been easier than he thought it would be. He simply walked into the first shop he came across, handed the clerk the money, and asked for whatever he could purchase for that amount. Not much thought, not much planning.
The first time that he bought a gift for anyone other than his parents, he was at an utter loss. He couldn't just walk into a store and ask for the most expensive item, it had to mean something. If it didn't, his boyfriend would slaughter him, and if he was dead there would be no sex.
Draco had never felt more helpless than he did gift-shopping for Harry Potter. He went from store to store, trying to find the gift that would make Harry not only love him, but like him as well. It took well over four hours but Draco finally found a shirt, some leather trousers that were more for himself than for Harry, some magical contacts that would instantly turn to Harry's prescription, a necklace, and some cologne that Draco couldn't stop smelling. Despite the fact that he had the slight notion that he had went overboard, he felt accomplished. He wanted to make his first gift a good one.
Upon arriving back at Hogwarts, he dropped his purchases off for Pansy to wrap for him and set off in search of Harry. He wanted to gloat about his purchases, quite sure that nothing could possibly top them.
Harry was to be found, unsurprisingly, holed up in his dormitory wrapping gifts.
"Can I come in?" Draco said as he tapped on the door.
There was a slightly disgruntled sigh and Harry called, "Yes, I've already wrapped yours anyway."
Draco pushed open the door and bounded in, finding himself in the midst of a Christmas disaster area. In the middle of the floor, however, was the most humourous sight in the room.
There, sitting in a pile of crumpled wrapping paper and wads of ruined Spellotape was Harry, with a large red bow stuck in his unruly hair and a rather forlorn look on his face.
"What are you doing still wrapping, love?" Draco said, trying his very hardest not to laugh. "If you've got mine done, that's all you need."
"I bought gifts for other people too," Harry said, unsticking a bit of tape from his cheek. "Don't you get things for your friends too?"
Draco arched an eyebrow then plucked the bow from Harry's head. "I don't buy things for other people, they buy things for me. You mean you actually get people things?"
"You don't?" Harry quipped, taking the bow from Draco and sticking it on the nearest box.
"Just...my mum, my dad, and you," Draco huffed as he sat next to Harry. "You mean that all of these are for people other than me?"
"Yes," Harry said slowly, as if explaining to a small child.
"But Harry," Draco said, mimicking his tone, "You don't have any parents."
"Very astute observation," Harry said with a shake of the head. "Draco, I have friends I care about. So I give them gifts. It isn't that hard of a concept."
Draco looked through the stack and noticed that one gift, whose tag read 'To Ron, Love Harry', was larger than any other gift, including three that were for Draco. "Why is Ron's bigger than mine?"
Harry chuckled before grabbing a large, rather boring-looking book that was most likely for Granger. "Because I like Ron more than you. Surely you knew that."
Whether Harry was telling the truth or lying Draco didn't know, and more importantly didn't care. The fact that he had the sheer audacity to say something that even suggested that there was someone that Harry preferred over him was telling enough. In his pondering he hadn't noticed another large box marked for Ron go into the pile, that is until it was too late.
"You, Mr. Potter, aren't allowed to speak with Ronald Weasley ever again," Draco snarled, his fingers itching to tear the gifts to pieces. "Not even if he asks you nicely."
"What are you on about?" Harry said offhandedly, cutting a square of wrapping paper free from the roll.
By this point, it seemed, Draco had had quite enough. "Now you are tuning me out? Thinking of your lover-on-the-side Weasley, no doubt. I will not be treated this way. You are not to speak to this Weasley again, and that's...who is that one for?" For it was then that he noticed a large box wrapped in what seemed to have been a fit. If he wasn't extremely angry with Harry he would make fun of his horrendous wrapping skills.
I'm not telling you," Harry said offhandedly, "You'll just get mad at me and tell me I can never talk to her again."
"Her? Her? Oh, so now it's girls?" Draco screeched, throwing a wad of tape at his head. "I'm not worried about Granger because she's asexual, but that Chang girl was all over you a couple of...wait, is it for..."
"Draco, please don't," Harry said in a tired tone, but it was too late to stop the impending storm. "She's just..."
"Don't!" The blonde Slytherin hissed, walking over to the box and tearing the name tag off. "Don't say she's just a friend because she isn't. She is in love with you and this...this gift is a bloody invitation. You want to have sex with her, don't you?"
"More than anything in the world," Harry said in total seriousness. "I have wanted to have sex with her since the last time. It wasn't near long enough, and I'm ready for another go."
"You aren't funny Harry," Draco said, a manic glint in his eye. "Now I'll have to murder her, and her stupid weasel brother for good measure. I hate killing people Harry, I really do, but I have no choice. You aren't having sex with girl Weasley. No."
"You would seriously deprive me of something I want?" Harry said, surprised. "Not that I want to have sex with Ginny. It was horrible the first time."
"Ah HA! It was horrible!" Draco said, doing a little jump. "She is a horrid shag and I rule!"
"I wouldn't say..."
"Oh come off it Potter, I'm really flexible."
Harry couldn't argue with that. And Draco pointed that out.
"You can't argue with that. I'm a fantastic lay and I got you the best Christmas gifts ever. I don't have to buy for other people because they can just look at what I got you and know that I am a generous and caring person," Draco said, preening. He had obviously beaten Harry at his own game, whatever that was.
"Skewed logic, but logic nonetheless," Harry said softly, standing to stretch. "That's all of the gifts. Now give me that tag so I can put it back on Ginny's."
"You aren't giving her anything. Or boy Weasley."
Harry arched an eyebrow and planted his hands on his hips. "I'm not?"
"If you do, both of our names are going on the tag," Draco added with a sudden burst of inspiration. "I'll not have you giving gifts to people that could potentially rape you. My name will protect you."
"Draco, this is stupid," Harry sighed. "I got them the gifts. My name goes on the tag. If you want your name on a tag, then I suggest you by them something."
"Maybe I will."
"Maybe you should."
"Fine."
"Fine."
Draco didn't realize what he had agreed to until he had already agreed to it. "Wait, I don't want..."
"For fuck's sake, I'll help you if you just shut up," Harry said, pressing his hand over Draco's mouth. "For once, use your mouth for something more productive than arguing."
Harry didn't have to say it twice.
It had taken seventeen years, but Draco had finally learned the true meaning of Christmas. It's about giving, not receiving. Whether he was giving Harry's blood traitor friends stupid Christmas gifts, or giving Harry himself a fantastic blow job, the joy was really in the satisfaction that you did something to make someone else mind-blowingly happy.
Or something like that.
Fin.