Draco Malfoy LOVED Christmas. Oh, there were the required presents, and the mandatory presents. But, and this was the key part, there were actually a few presents that were just for him. Generally from his mother, and occasionally from his father. The rest of his relatives need not apply (particularly since a good deal of them were in Azkaban.)
And broomstick riding in the snow (There was always snow, Narcissa Malfoy insisted)... If Draco Malfoy was especially lucky, his father would fly with him.
Once, a long time ago, Severus Snape had come to their Christmas celebration. He'd been smashed up drunk at the time, and Draco had been shushed away quickly. Draco had wondered, before that, whether his godfather even had a Christmas celebration. After that, he knew - Snape wasn't fit company during the holidays, and it was best to leave him alone.
Draco bounded up to his mother, who was sitting elegantly on a white snow sculpture in the middle of the snowy garden (the stream was still trickling a jaunty little tune). "The scarf's great!" he cried, bounding past her and into a white snow fort the house elves were just putting the finishing touches on. Draco called it Avalon. Draco always called it Avalon. Once, when he was very young, he had wanted to be Lancelot. His mother had taken him sharply to task, and had said that he'd make a better Arthur - after all, Malfoys were born to command. And so Draco shrugged himself into the snow crown, and the sword, and his mother would dress as Lady of the Lake - and his father would dress as Myrddin himself. The house elves would be the knights of the round table, and they'd all have a feast in the snow fort.
For this was Christmas, and, for one day, the world stood still.
[a/n: Well, this just went perpendicular. Write a review, if you please. As for the title? Draco's da never likes hugs (they aggravate some of his damage from the war) and doesn't like seeing his son get them either. So no hugs on Christmas.]