For Lettice. Merry Christmas!

Word count: 6142

first Christmas

Draco Malfoy is not good at shopping. Well, that isn't completely true. He could very easily go on a shopping spree and buy himself a million little gifts. But for other people? He feels completely useless. There is a reason his mother would always pick out gifts for him to give to others. Unfortunately, as he has still not told his mother that he is dating a man, that isn't an option this time.

And so he finds himself plotting and pondering. What does Charlie even like? Dragons, but he's around them all day, every day. His family, but Draco isn't about to just take Charlie for a visit and call it a gift.

It does, however, give him an idea. Maybe going to visit family wouldn't be a proper gift, but hasn't Charlie mentioned before that he needs a holiday? He has days saved up, but he always says he's saving those days for when he needs him. Maybe Charlie doesn't know it yet, but he definitely needs to get away for Christmas. Luckily for him, Draco can definitely make that happen.

…

Draco arrives at Charlie's flat with takeaway from his favorite Greek restaurant and a bottle of sweet red wine. "I know you said you exchange gifts on Christmas day," Draco says, setting the table for their informal dinner, "but I didn't want to spring it on you at the last minute."

Charlie watches him with raised brows, a small on his lips. "Oh? You brought me dinner," he says. "How sweet."

"I did more than that," Draco tells him, grinning proudly.

He's done such an excellent job, and he hadn't needed his mother's help at all. She would probably be so proud of him if she knew.

Draco digs into his coat pocket and pulls out the hotel voucher, holding it up for Charlie to see.

"What's this?" His boyfriend moves closer and takes the voucher from him.

"We leave first thing in the morning. Seven days, six nights in Waikiki," Draco explains. "It's nothing fancy. Just a four-star hotel, but it has a great view, and it's just a quick hike to the beach."

Charlie has that look. It's the look he gives Draco whenever he's trying to figure out how to explain some great disconnect. Draco frowns, wondering what could possibly be wrong with an all expenses paid holiday to Hawaii. Maybe it's the tropical area. Redheads burn so easily, and he might have just cursed Charlie with a nasty sunburn that will take ages to go away.

"If you're worried it will be too sunny, I have a special sunblock," Draco says quickly. "Malfoy skin is quite delicate too! Did you know I got sun poisoning once when I was eight? Not a sunburn, Charlie. Sun poisoning."

That look doesn't fade, and Draco has a horrible suspicion that it has nothing to do with his choice of destination.

"Draco, I adore you," Charlie says. He places the voucher on the table and takes Draco by the hand. "It means the world to me that you thought of this. I can't accept it."

"If you're worried about the cost, it really wasn't a big deal."

Charlie kisses him. It's a gentle kiss, the kind Charlie uses to politely shut Draco up whenever gets a little too chatty.

"It's a great gift, and I would love to see Hawaii one day, but tomorrow is not that day. I have to work."

Draco nods because he knows that, of course. He wouldn't have planned this out if Charlie didn't have his days saved up. "I know. That's why you'll take off tomorrow, let them know you'll be back next Monday."

He's honestly sort of baffled Charlie doesn't understand this. You save up your days, then you enjoy beautiful time away from work without having to be sick to do so.

"Oh, Draco." Charlie pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out an exhausted sigh. His lips twitch, like he wants so badly to laugh. "That is not at all how this works. I have to schedule time off in advance."

"How far in advance?"

"For Christmas? Er… Probably best to ask around September, honestly," Charlie answers, shrugging. "Is it refundable?"

Draco feels heated color rush to his face. He's so bloody stupid. All his life, he's seen his father simply announce that he's doing something or going somewhere, and it's always been good enough. He should have known it wasn't actually that easy, but what was he supposed to do?

"Non-refundable," Draco answers, dropping into the chair and falling forward, letting his head bang against the table.

…

"Not that I'm complaining," Blaise says, pouring another glass of wine as Theo puts the voucher away, "but isn't a Hawaiian getaway a bit extravagant? We only got you a new journal."

"Dragonhide journal," Theo adds. "Cost a nice Galleon."

"Not Hawaii sort of nice," Blaise calls before turning his attention away from his boyfriend and back to Draco. "So…?"

"I booked it so Charlie and I could go to Hawaii for the holidays."

Blaise's eyes widen like he understands. "Oh, fuck. He broke up with you on Christmas Eve?"

"What? No! No, he just… I didn't realize he needed to ask off in advance, and I sort of planned this whole thing about two weeks ago."

Blaise makes a face, and Draco finds himself feeling ridiculous again. Even Blaise, who owns his own apothecary and has lived a life just as privileged as Draco, seems to know that there's some expected etiquette around holidays and taking time off. Is Draco the only one who didn't get the memo?

"I'm an idiot, aren't I?"

"Afraid so. More wine? You might need to drink away the embarrassment."

Draco rolls his eyes, but holds out his glass, grateful that Blaise pours him a generous helping. "I was so mortified I just ran out," he groans. "Didn't stick around for dinner… Just…"

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It isn't the end of the world. They've only been together for half a year, and Draco knows they will get over it.

For tonight, though, he just wants to be miserable.

second Christmas

Another year, and Draco finds himself feeling completely lost as he strolls down Diagon Alley. He wonders what would happen if he stopped a random person on the street and asked them what sort of present they would get for a bloke like Charlie. Surely someone would have some idea!

He stops outside of Quality Quidditch Supplies, sighing. If only Charlie had stuck with Quidditch instead of chasing dragons around. Draco knows what to buy Quidditch players; it's something that's as natural as breathing to him. But Charlie? Someone who spends his days around dragons? There had to be something he could do.

He purses his lips, tapping his finger against his chin as he allows himself to get lost in thought. Last year, he had been lavish and ridiculous. Maybe the key is to do the exact opposite this year, and buy Charlie something practical.

With his confidence renewed, Draco resumes walking, eyes scanning the shops. He's been to Diagon Alley countless times, but it feels like he's noticing all the shops for the first time ever, like the holiday season somehow makes the shops look all shiny and new. There has to be one that has the perfect gift for Charlie, something he will use and love and think of Draco each and every time.

It's a bit unconventional, but he stops outside a skin care store. He's pretty sure the Patil twins run it, or at least the Gryffindor one. Maybe she can help. He really hopes so.

Taking a deep breath, he steps inside, nodding to himself. This is exactly what he needs.

…

It's Christmas Eve, and Draco is too eager to wait until Christmas to exchange gifts. Maybe this will be their special tradition, just the two of them the evening before Christmas, enjoying the other's company before having to deal with all the holiday obligations.

"No hotel rooms this time," Draco assures Charlie as he pulls out a small box wrapped in metallic red and green paper and topped with a silver bow.

It looks so extravagant, nicer than Draco could have managed. Parvati had been kind enough to gift wrap it for no extra cost. Truthfully, Draco would have paid a hundred Galleons just to be spared the nightmare of wrapping it.

Charlie accepts it, smiling as he hands Draco his present. Ordinarily, Draco would be so excited that he'd tear into his without hesitation. Not this time. Not with Charlie. He wants more than anything to see Charlie's face light up when he sees what's inside.

Charlie tears the paper away and opens the box. "Lotion," he says, nodding as he smiles and pulls the bottle out of the box. "I definitely need a good lotion."

"Not just lotion! It will soften the calluses on your hand within a week," Draco says, beaming. "And it treats burns and even helps fade scars. Perfect for my favorite dragon handler."

Charlie opens the top, and that's when it occurs to Draco that he hadn't even bothered to smell it. He had simply explained the situation to Parvati, and he'd trusted her judgment and let her pick out the perfect product for him. Now, as a strong scent of something sweet and floral with a faint hint of spice fills the air, he wishes he had checked.

Charlie's nose wrinkles. He composes his face quickly, but it's too late; Draco saw. "It, um… It has an interesting scent," he says because he's much too polite to hurt Draco's feelings. "Thank you so much. It's thoughtful."

He sets the lotion aside and wraps his arms around Draco, peppering his face with kisses. Draco wonders if he's trying to make him forget about the second awful Christmas gift in a row. It will take a lot more than kisses to take his mind off of that, but it's a nice start, and he hasn't run away to Blaise and Theo's, so at least he's made progress.

When Draco opens Charlie's gift to him, he can't but be jealous of how good Charlie is at picking just the right thing. The package is small, but inside is the black and silver pinstripe tie he'd been eyeing for a while now. Charlie had always talked him out of buying it, and now Draco knows why.

"Come on," Charlie says, taking Draco's hand and leading him to the kitchen. "I'm making goulash, and you have to try it."

…

"Hold on, hold on. So, you told her your boyfriend works with dragons all day," Theo says as Draco joins him and Blaise for Christmas breakfast the next morning, "and she gives you something that smells like… sexy flowers?"

"I might not have mentioned that it was for my boyfriend," Draco admits.

It isn't easy. His family's name has been through a lot, and he's really trying to turn that around. It isn't that he's ashamed of Charlie, or the fact that he dates men just as much as he dates women. But the thought of how people would react, the scandal it would cause… He and Charlie have talked about it, and they both agree that they will wait until Draco is ready before going public. Charlie's family knows already, and they are lovely enough to keep quiet because they understand how delicate the situation is.

"Mate, never buy scented things without smelling them first," Blaise says. "Did I ever tell you about the time Mother picked up some expensive cologne while in Milan? She didn't smell it first, and I walked around smelling like lemons."

Draco doesn't feel much better after that. After all, he knows Mrs. Zabini won't ever win Mother of the Year, and she probably didn't bother to think of something Blaise might have actually liked. Is that what he's becoming? Is he doomed to be the boyfriend who just grabs something and hopes for the best?

The thought of it makes him want to curl up and die, but he just grins sheepishly and stirs sugar into his coffee. "Yeah, yeah," he says. "Lesson learned."

And it's true. Christmas probably isn't supposed to be a day of learning, but it seems like that's all he's done the past two years. Each lesson helps him along, and he is certain that next year will be better.

third Christmas

Draco has a plan of action this year. He will buy something that screams Charlie, something with a little Malfoy flare. It's so perfect that he can barely contain himself.

"Silver or gold?" the woman behind the counter asks.

Draco almost says silver because that's his color. Elegant and stylish, and just so very Draco. But this isn't about him. This is about Charlie, and his boyfriend is such a hopeless Gryffindor, all bold and brilliant and demanding attention.

"Gold," Draco answers, because how could he settle for anything less.

It's an easy exchange, one that doesn't take very long at all, and he's out the door in less than twenty minutes, gift wrapped box in hand and a proud smile on his lips. This time, he knows he's chosen something perfect.

…

Draco loves these moments on Christmas Eve. This year, Charlie is experimenting with a recipe for gumbo, given to him by a New Orleans native who recently started working at the dragon reserve. The air smells of shrimp and spices, and Draco's mouth waters with each inhale.

"Well?" Draco is practically bouncing with excitement. He can't wait to see the look on Charlie's face when he sees what he's gotten for him. "Are you ready?"

"Do you know why you'd be a terrible Healer?" Charlie asks, a crooked smile in place as he finally steps away from the stove and follows Draco into the cramped dining room.

Draco huffs. "Why's that?"

"Because you keep running out of patience. Get it? Patience? Patients?"

Eyes rolling, Draco groans. He considers telling Charlie to leave the jokes to George, but he doesn't want to hurt his boyfriend's feelings, especially when it's Christmas Eve, and they have so much to do. Tonight is all about joy and happiness. "Very funny," he says dryly. "I forgot I was dating a comedian."

Charlie, unfazed by the retort, bows. "I'll be here all week," he says before drawing his wand and summoning Draco's present.

The box is much bigger than the one Draco holds. He bites the inside of his cheek. Has Charlie done something elaborate this year? Does his own present pale in comparison?

He shakes his head and tries to force the thought from his head. Charlie is going to love it. He just knows it.

Charlie unwraps the gift and opens the lid. He pulls out the cufflinks, gold formed into fierce dragons with eyes made of rubies. It's really the perfect thing, something that is just so very Charlie. Draco finds himself grinning so broadly that his jaw aches and burns.

Charlie smiles politely and sets the cufflinks back in the box. "Thank you, Draco. They're beautiful," he says.

Draco opens his present, and his heart melts when he sees that Charlie has bought him three new books to add to his collection, uncommon tomes of advanced potions. Draco sets the books aside and throws his arms around Charlie, holding him close. "Stop being so perfect, Weasley," he grumbles.

With a laugh, Charlie pulls away, pausing to press a quick chaste kiss to Draco's lips. "Never."

…

Draco doesn't feel quite as accomplished weeks later when he sees Charlie dressing casually. Maybe there had been something he was missing when he was shopping for Charlie, something so obvious that Draco hadn't even considered it.

Why would Charlie need cufflinks? The only time Draco has even seen him dress up was for Ron and Hermione's wedding the year before.

He had felt so proud of himself, but now it's all down the drain. Charlie might wear the cufflinks once, maybe twice, over the next decade.

"I don't get it," Draco says as he stops by Blaise's apothecary to refill his depleted potion stock. "Why would he smile like that? He smiled and said thank you, like I actually did something good."

"This might surprise you," Blaise says, dark eyes scanning the store, quickly ensuring that they are the only two inside, and he can speak frankly, "but he's your boyfriend, and he loves you."

Draco scoffs. "Yes? And?"

"And he doesn't want to make you feel like shit," Blaise says dryly, fixing Draco with a look that quietly but clearly says this is why you aren't a Ravenclaw. "He saw that you tried, and even though it's not something he would actually use, he appreciated the gesture."

Sometimes Draco wonders how Blaise managed to figure all of this out. They had similar upbringings, right down to being raised by parents who didn't marry for love. Somehow, against all odds, Blaise managed to unlearn everything and become a functioning member of society. Draco is still learning. He isn't there yet, but he's a long way away from who he used to be.

"Oh."

His best friend nods. "Yep."

"I really am terrible at this," Draco groans.

Blaise shrugs and makes his way down the aisle before Draco, tidying and adjusting here and there. "Just focus on something that he likes," he suggests. "That's what I always do for Theo. If he has a new hobby, I get stuff for it. Makes holidays and birthdays surprisingly easy."

fourth Christmas

A year later, he still remembers Blaise's advice when December rolls around.

Something Charlie likes...

There are plenty of things, and sometimes it's hard to pick just one thing that fits him. It's just one more reason Draco loves Charlie so much: he is the type of bloke to keep you guessing, and once you think you've figured him out, there's another layer to peel away.

But there are a few things about him that Draco knows, things that have never changed since the day he met Charlie. Of those things, he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that Charlie is one of the most talented cooks he's ever met. He says he learned it all from his mother; while Draco knows Mrs. Weasley is an excellent chef, he thinks Charlie's cooking is better (not that he would ever tell her that).

There's a spring in his step and a smile on his face that radiates confidence and certainty. This time, he knows exactly what to get Charlie. This will be no awkward grabs, no poorly timed trips, no flashy gold. No, this year, it's all about Charlie and the things he loves.

Truth be told, Draco doesn't know the first thing about the sort of dishes one needs to cook with, and the little shop feels as foreign and expansive as the Forbidden Forest (except he would most definitely find his way in the forest much easier than he would here). Maybe he should have asked Mrs. Weasley to come with him to help him find exactly what Charlie needs.

There's no point dwelling on it. At the very least, he will be able to ask someone for help.

…

This year, the present wasn't gift wrapped in the store, and it shows. The wrapping paper is pale blue with snowflakes on it, and it is covered in bows and ribbons to cover the obscene number of rips and tears because Draco is not very good at wrapping presents. It's a pitiful display, but he hopes Charlie can see the love that's gone into it.

Maybe he should have gotten it gift wrapped… Merlin! The longer he stares at it, the more hideous it becomes. Draco swallows dryly, forcing the thoughts from his head. He's just anxious. Nothing more, nothing left. Charlie doesn't care about the aesthetics.

"You're early," Charlie calls, poking his head out from the kitchen. He grins when he sees Draco, like he's missed him like crazy, even though Draco was at the flat the night before. "I'm just putting the roast in the oven."

"Roast?" Draco asks, brows raising. "I thought Christmas Eve was your day of culinary adventure. Don't tell me you're getting traditional on me."

Charlie snorts and disappears back into the kitchen. "If I ever become traditional, please know that it isn't me, and someone has taken Polyjuice to look like me."

A moment later, Charlie returns, his eyes falling on the poorly wrapped gift. His lips quirk, but he is kind enough not to laugh. He holds out his arms, and Draco goes to him, allowing Charlie to wrap him into a hug.

These are the moments he lives for. He breathes Charlie scents of a nice clean soap mingling with herbs and spices. He listens to his boyfriend's heart as it beats. It's a reminder that they have made it another year, and they are so hopelessly in love and still going strong. Draco would honestly trade away everything in the world just to capture this moment forever in time, to stay like this for an eternity.

But then they break apart, as they always do, and Charlie grabs Draco's present. "I didn't bother wrapping it this year. Bit too bulky."

Draco's heart melts when Charlie holds out the robe. Draco can't be sure what the material is, but it's soft and comfortable, warmer than it appears, and its shimmery black material almost looks dark silver in the light. "I love it," Draco whispers, hurrying to put it on. "Go on! Open yours!"

Charlie does, tearing away the paper and letting it drop to the floor. He sets the collection of baking dishes and accessories on the table, a smile on his lips. "Thank you, Draco," he says, reaching out and capturing Draco in a one-armed hug. "You are so perfect."

And Draco finds himself beaming with pride because he finally did it. He found the perfect gift.

"Come on. It'll be a bit before dinner, but we can pop down to the canteen and pick up a quick lunch," Charlie tells him, taking Draco by the end.

…

By February, he realizes his mistake, and this time it isn't Blaise or Theo to point it out.

He and Ginny are helping Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen one Sunday as they prepare for a family dinner. Mrs. Weasley pulls out an elegant baking dish that looks familiar; it's delicate so that the top of the cake will look like a rose.

"I bought one of those for Charlie," he says proudly. "Except his is a sunflower because he likes sunflowers best."

"Why would you do that?" Ginny asks. There's nothing mean or cold in her words, just genuine confusion and curiosity, as shown by the way her brows knit together like she's pondering a complex riddle.

"I bought him a whole baking set for Christmas," Draco explains, shrugging.

"But… why? Charlie doesn't bake."

"What are you talking about? I think he's spent half of our relationship in the kitchen," Draco insists.

Ginny's expression softens. Draco knows that look all too well. Charlie has given it to him more times than he'd like to admit, and he immediately realizes he's misunderstood something.

"Charlie cooks," Ginny explains. "He doesn't bake."

Mrs. Weasley chuckles. "I did try to teach him to bake, but it requires such precision, and that boy never had the patience for it."

Ginny snorts and shakes her head. "He tried to make chocolate cake for my birthday once, and I still think that's why we all ended up with food poisoning."

Draco blinks slowly, trying to understand what they're talking about. "But… Baking and cooking are the same thing? Aren't they?"

The two women seem to understand how genuinely confused he is. They exchange looks before looking at him again.

Draco doesn't actually cook. The last time he tried, he nearly burned down Charlie's flat three times in less than an hour. Charlie has explicitly banned him from the kitchen without close supervision. He's always just assumed that cooking is cooking, and anything with food involves cooking.

"Well… Baking is a way to cook things. Come, dear. Help me chop the potatoes, and we'll talk."

fifth Christmas

It's their fifth year celebrating the holidays together, and Draco feels more lost than ever before. How does Charlie always manage to find the perfect gift for him? Why doesn't he drop hints about what he wants? He would be so much easier to shop for if he would just say what he wants.

"Get him something that shows you love him and you are thinking about your future together," Theo suggests.

Draco considers. They've been together for years now. By now, more people know about their relationship, and he finds himself being more and more open about it, quicker to refer to Charlie as his boyfriend without hesitation. He still doesn't have the energy to tell his parents, and maybe he never will. But for now, he's made progress.

Maybe it is time to celebrate that progress, to show Charlie how much he loves him. Draco has never cared about anyone the way he cares about Charlie. That should scare him, honestly. Sometimes it still does, and he finds himself so worried that Charlie will wake up one day and realize he can do better, that he needs someone who is in it for the long run.

"Theo, I could bloody kiss you!"

Theo snorts, eyes rolling. He waves a dismissive hand. "Blaise would actually murder you, so probably best if you don't."

Draco barely pays him any attention. He jumps to his feet, grinning, a plan formulating in his head. Grabbing his coat and slipping it on, he hurries out the door.

This Christmas, Charlie will understand that Draco is committed, that he knows they have a future together. It will be the greatest Christmas yet, and Draco can hardly wait.

…

Charlie has a nice coconut curry going when Draco arrives. Draco licks his lips, his stomach growling the moment he enters the flat. "Back to culinary adventures, then?"

Charlie pokes his head out the kitchen, his whole face lighting up when he sees Draco. "Of course," he says. "That's what Christmas Eve is supposed to be about, remember?"

Draco purses his lips, thinking for a moment. "Doesn't that technically make the non-traditional become traditional for us?"

Charlie narrows his eyes and huffs, ducking back into the kitchen. Draco watches him, unable to resist a smile.

He really does love Charlie in a way he never thought possible. Once upon a time, everyone had been so sure he and Pansy would end up together, but no one ever realized they were just friends. There was always flirting and banter between them, but she always knew it wasn't meant to be.

But Charlie… If only they had been at Hogwarts together. They could have so easily been childhood sweethearts (except he knows they couldn't have been because Charlie would have hated the younger Draco).

After a few minutes, Charlie returns with two steaming plates of curry. Draco's stomach growls again, louder this time. It's tempting to go ahead and dig in, but eating has to wait. He simply has to do this now.

"You know, Charlie," Draco says, reaching into his pocket, "I've been doing a lot of thinking about us. You and me. I am honestly the luckiest man alive because I get to call you mine."

Charlie's freckled cheeks flush a deep pink. He grins. "Don't tell me you're writing sonnets about me now," he teases, though he looks quite pleased

"No. Not that you don't deserve sonnets," Draco says. "I just… I want you to know how much I love you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I… Charlie, I know things can be uncertain sometimes. You have such a dangerous job, and life is just strange and unexpected, and I wanted to give you this."

He pulls out the paper and hands it to Charlie. His boyfriend's expression falters, lovestruck replaced by something that looks like a cross between confusion and disappointment. Brows knitting together, Charlie accepts the paper.

"A… You bought me a burial plot?" Charlie asks.

"Right. I don't want you to think I'm not thinking about us. Just last week, that Horntail almost ate you for breakfast, and I just… I want to know that you will be taken care of."

Charlie pulls him into a hug and kisses his forehead. "Thank you, Draco," he says softly. "You're always so thoughtful."

…

"I'm sorry. You bought him a what?" Blaise demands once he's finally stopped laughing long enough to talk. He wipes the tears from his eyes and fixes Draco with a look, like he's trying to figure out if Draco is taking the piss.

"A burial plot," Draco grinds out, folding his arms over his chest. "And I'll have you know, it was Theo's idea."

"No, no. I suggested something that screamed commitment, like an engagement ring, not that you were actively thinking about him dying," Theo says, eyes rolling. "I swear, you only hear what you want to hear."

Draco sinks a little deeper in his chair, his face burning. He thought it was a good idea, but now he feels like the biggest fool of all time.

plus the sixth Christmas

His mother studies him silently for several moments, like she has to be sure Draco is really there and it isn't just a dream. Finally, she smiles and steps aside. "I've missed you, Draco," she says. "I suppose you've been too busy with that Weasley boy to visit."

Draco swallows dryly. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised that she knows. Rumors and whispers always pass so quickly, and all of Britain can know a closely kept secret within a few hours on a particularly busy day. "His name is Charlie," Draco says, because there are so many Weasley boys. "And I… I didn't know how to tell you."

She laughs, the sound bitter and without humor. "Running away rather than facing your fears," she muses. "You're more like me than you know. I'll fix us some tea."

Draco feels relaxed already. He's missed his mother more than he would ever admit, and as he joins her in the kitchen, it's so easy to open up to her about everything as she puts the kettle on. He should have done this sooner. His father might not accept him, but his mother always has, and she always will.

By the time the tea is poured and they're sitting together in the parlor, he's already vented about five amazing Christmases that he's ruined with terrible gifts.

"Draco, did you really buy him a burial plot?" she asks, and she looks at him the way Charlie does when he's done something completely ridiculous but is trying not to make a big deal about it.

"Well, he has a dangerous job, Mother! Besides, I'm not sure his family would be able to take care of things if… you know... " Draco motions with his hands, though it's a chaotic sort of movement. At this point, he isn't actually sure what he's trying to convey. "It was about commitment!"

She sighs and shakes her head. For several seconds, she sits there, lips threatening to crack into a smile. Draco feels himself lightening up, like this is all he's needed all this time.

"My dear boy, that isn't how you do it," she says. "At least not for Christmas."

"Then what do I do?"

He feels like he's tried everything by now. Fancy holidays didn't work. Gold was forgotten about. Useful things fell through. It's like every time he's done something with the best of intentions, he's failed miserably. If he was the paranoid sort, he might start to think there's some sort of conspiracy against him.

"Do you love Charlie?" she asks, and, judging by the knowing look in her eyes, Draco thinks she already knows the answer.

"More than anything," he tells her.

She sips her tea in silence, the suspense building. Draco leans in, like he's waiting for her to impart some ancient wisdom that will change his life.

"In that case, you give him the most precious, most valuable thing you have."

…

Draco lets himself into Charlie's flat about twenty minutes before Charlie is due home from work. It's Christmas Eve once again, and he finally knows that this will be the perfect year. Really, he should have gone to his mother before. She had been absolutely right, and he has been so painfully oblivious.

But there's no time to think about that. He has to make sure everything is ready and just right for when Charlie gets home.

He sets the table and fixes the plates. It isn't anything fancy, just steak and baked potatoes and golden-brown rolls drizzled with honey and butter. The cake in the center of the table is simple, but red velvet is Charlie's favorite, and it's from their favorite bakery back home in London.

Humming to himself, Draco sets up the candles, lighting each one to lend a soft, romantic glow to the room. A wave of the wand, and he summons blankets to the couch before lighting a fire in the fireplace.

In retrospect, he probably should have come a little earlier because he feels like he's rushing through. He wishes he could be more meticulous, but he doesn't have time to pay too much attention to detail. Maybe it isn't perfect, and he could have done so much more if he had more time, but Draco thinks he does an excellent job setting the mood for a quiet evening in.

"What's all this then?" Charlie appears in the doorway, eyes widening ever so slightly at the scene before him. "I thought you wouldn't be here tonight."

Draco grins. He had told Charlie he would be running late because he had a meeting at the Ministry that couldn't be postponed. "Well, to be fair, I said I didn't know if I would make it," he says, stepping forward and reaching for Charlie's hand. "I wanted to surprise you."

Charlie's eyes wander to the table, then back at Draco. He raises a questioning brow.

"No, I didn't cook it," Draco huffs, pulling his boyfriend close. "But I wanted to do something special, like our first Christmas together."

It's amazing how the years have gone by, and here they still are, stronger than ever and falling a little more in love with each day that passes.

"I thought after dinner we could curl up by the fire and have hot cocoa. Maybe we can swing by London and see the lights at Kew Gardens?"

Charlie pulls him into a warm hug, pressing a gentle kiss to Draco's lips. "Sounds like a perfect evening."

…

The next morning, he doesn't wake up and go to Blaise and Theo's. Instead, he wakes up in his home in London, and he smells bacon frying in the kitchen. With a lazy grin on his lips, he climbs to his feet and dresses quickly before heading downstairs.

Charlie has been busy, clearly. He's fixed bacon and eggs and toast, and even a special treat of waffles and syrup. Draco watches, smiling to himself. Their fun Christmas Eve out had ended with the two of them returning to Draco's home, something that so rarely happens. He wonders if it should make him nervous, but, really, it doesn't. Maybe he really is ready to take whatever the next great step is with Charlie. He's spent too many years worrying about the opinions of others, and now he just wants to enjoy his life with his boyfriend.

Charlie glances over his shoulder, grinning. "You know, I never got to give you your present last night," he calls.

"I think my time with you is enough of a gift."

His boyfriend snorts as he fixes their plates and takes them to the table. "Ordinarily, I'd agree, but… Well…" He reaches into his pocket, and it takes several moments for Draco to realize he pulls out a silver ring.

"Charlie…"

"I love you," Charlie says quietly. "You're my best friend, and one of the most amazing men I've ever met. I love our Christmases together, and I want to spend the next hundred of them with you as my husband. Will you marry me?"

Draco doesn't have to give it any thought at all. He lets Charlie slip the ring onto his finger before he wraps his arms around Charlie and holds him tight.

"Merry Christmas," Charlie whispers.

"Merry Christmas."

And it really is the greatest Christmas of all.