December 18 - stockings

"Stockings?" Draco asked, holding up a large green and red plaid one when he met Harry in the hallway that morning.

"Of course," Harry responded. "We have to have stockings. Where else will Santa put candy and treats?"

"I thought we weren't doing the red fat man."

"The red fat man?" Harry goggled. "Did you really just call Santa the red fat man?"

"You heard me, I said what I said."

"What do you have against Santa? No, we're not doing Santa per se, but stockings are a tradition I thought worth doing."

Draco nodded, "I have no problem with stockings. I was honestly just surprised you hadn't hung them already. The kids have names on them, right? So we can tell them apart."

"Not yet, they can do that themselves in a bit. You didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

Harry scowled. "Well, now you're just being deliberately obnoxious."

"I have nothing against Santa."

"Then why call him that."

"Is he or is he not fat?"

"He is depicted that way, yes."

"And does he or does he not wear a red suit or cloak depending on the version of him you see."

"He does," Harry affirmed.

"Then what's wrong with calling him that?"

"Nothing, I suppose. It just seems wrong somehow."

"Then I'll stop."

"Good because we're Santa now and neither of us is fat. I've also never seen you in a red suit or cloak."

"I did have red robes once upon a time when I was little. I looked strangely more washed out in them than I did in any other color. I have a red jumper for the party in a few days."

"You? You're not going to wear a suit?"

"It's a party at our house with friends and family. Did you really think I was going to wear a suit?"

"Honestly?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded.

"Yes."

"Well, I'm not. I have a jumper and a pair of black slacks, though I also have a new pair of denims I picked up while I was out shopping."

Harry frowned. "You don't go to Muggle stores so where did you get denims?"

"Madam Malkin has a Muggle clothing selection in the back for those in the know."

"And now I do, thank you."

"You're welcome. How are the children putting their names on their stockings."

"Come on down and I'll show you."

Draco accompanied Harry down the stairs, telling the children who had woken up and opened their calendars to bring their stockings with them.

When they reached the main floor Harry led the way into the library-turned-schoolroom where he laid his own stocking on the table. He pulled a bag from behind a bookshelf.

"What is that?" Draco asked suspiciously. "Do I see more glitter? Didn't we learn our lesson yesterday?"

"This isn't the same," Harry protested. "I promise."

"You say that, but it's glitter. I see the glitter in there, and I'm pretty sure there's still some on the table, and in the carpet, and in the hallway, and on the stairs, and-"

"I get the point."

"In your hair," Draco finished, grinning when Harry frowned and just barely resisted running a hand through his hair.

Harry sighed, "Yes, there is glitter in here, but it's not the same thing."

"How is it not the same?"

"This glitter is already in the glue and I've spelled the glue tubes so the kids can't open them, all they can do is take the tops off, the caps I mean."

"That does sound better. Let me see them," Draco said and extended a hand.

Harry passed over the package of glitter glue tubes. The other man pulled one out and opened it, giving it a slight squeeze. He sat down and set his own stocking on the table using the tube he had to write his name in a set of flourishes and swirls.

"Yeah, this should be much better. Why didn't we use these yesterday?"

Harry hung his head. "I thought the other stuff would be fine. I had no idea. I guess I never paid attention when my instructors were doing this with us, attention to what the other kids were doing. I tried to be as neat as possible always."

"That seems to have gone out the window," Draco commented with a twinkle in his eye.

Harry smirked. "Well, when house elves are cleaning up after you and when you have roommates that are absolute slobs it kind of happens naturally."

"I am not a slob."

"Yes, because I meant you. Seriously? Besides we don't share a room, we share a house. It's totally different."

"So, I take it the Gryffindor dorm was a mess."

"Ron's area and Seamus's were. Dean was fairly neat. Neville was as neat as you are."

"Probably scared of what his grandmother would do if he was a slob."

"We never talked about it, but yeah probably."

"Still, slobby roommates don't necessarily mean you become a slob," Draco objected. "I've always been neat even with house elves cleaning up after me and while Theo was also neat as a pin, the others were a mess. Blaise was probably the worst. Theo and I would constantly sigh and kick our way through the myriad of belongings on the floor, but we didn't give in to slovenliness."

"It's also likely that simply not having many possessions was the reason I was neater."

"I think you just didn't have to worry anymore. I'm naturally neat, some people are. You're more high-energy and probably naturally messy. When you were freed up to not think about it you stopped."

"Well, I'm thinking about it again."

"Ten little ones will do that to you. Still again I ask, why didn't we use these yesterday?"

"We should have, next time we will."

"Next time?"

"Next year," Harry suggested.

Draco smiled and shook his head. "No way, they'll convince you otherwise. By the by, I believe you owe me twenty galleons."

"It hasn't been six months yet."

"Ah, but you admitted defeat yesterday."

"It was a temporary aberration."

"Then why aren't we using the regular glue and glitter today?"

"Would you prefer the mess?"

"Merlin, no."

"Let's get ready to eat then we can do this afterward," Harry said as the children began to stream into the room with their stockings held high overhead.

"Dad, what are stockings for?" James asked.

"We hang them on the mantel by the fireplace and when you wake up Christmas morning they'll be filled with treats."

"Why?"

"I don't actually know," Harry answered the child.

"Draco do you know?" Fiona asked.

"I might," he replied.

"Tell us please," she pleaded.

"Hmmm, do you really want to know?"

"Yes, yes please."

"Well then," he said and sat up running his hands together as if dusting them off. "We talked about St. Nicholas almost two weeks ago."

"When we put our shoes out," Freya said.

"Yes," he nodded.

"Is this story about him too?" Marcus asked.

"It is?"

"So was he really Santa Claus?" Liam wanted to know.

"He really is the man many people base Santa Claus on."

"But if he has to do with stockings," Riordan frowned. "Why did we put out shoes for him to fill?"

"I don't know for sure about the shoes, but I do know about the stockings. Do you want to hear it?"

Ten little heads bobbed up and down.

"Then you have to wait to ask any more questions until I'm done."

"We promise," was the sing-song response.

"Ok then, it's not that long of a story so this should be easy. You know that when St. Nicholas was alive he thought it was incredibly important to take care of those in need. He had all of the money left to him by his parents when they died and wanted to do good things with it. One day he was visiting a village and heard people talking about a family in the town. The family was a father with three daughters. Back in those days if a girl wanted to get married her family had to provide a dowry to the groom's family. I'm not going to go into that right now as there are a number of reasons why that happened and it is mostly a thing of the past now."

Mostly Harry mouthed. Draco shook his head once in response with raised eyebrows that clearly read "You know typical Pureblood nonsense".

"Anyway, the father was very worried because he wanted his daughters to be able to get married. The oldest girl had found someone she wanted to marry, but he had no money for a dowry. He'd been searching for a way to make more money and wouldn't accept charity. St. Nicholas, then just plain old Nicholas or Bishop Nicholas depending on the story you read, decided he would give the man money. He had to do it in a way that the man wouldn't know where the money came from. So that night, he snuck into the man's house, some say he came down the chimney. Anyway, when he was in the house he saw the girls' stockings hung by the fire to dry after being washed. He dropped a bag of gold coins in the stockings. The man thought it was a miracle and his daughters could now get married."

"There are other versions of why stockings are hung, but that one is the most common," Draco finished.

"I know another one," Harry put in.

"You said you didn't. It's not nice to lie," Freya scolded him.

Draco snorted and laughed.

"I didn't lie, not on purpose. I'd forgotten about it until Draco told his story. It's from a Christmas show, we can watch it later and you'll see. If everyone is done we can go up now. You need to put your names on the stockings and we need to hang them by the fireplace."

"Daddy, that's silly," Fiona said. "The fireplace isn't big enough."

"We'll make it work," Harry said ruffling her hair.

They all trooped back up the stairs to the schoolroom and sat in their spots at the large table with their stockings.

Harry held up his own stocking with his name in large block letters. "You're going to use the glue pens on the table to write your name on the top of the stocking."

"But why?" Conor asked. "If there's no Santa Claus then who's going to fill them?"

"Draco and I will are going to be your Santa Claus and fill them for you."

"I want mine to look like Draco's," Caela said, pointing to his fancily written name.

"How did you do that?" Marcus wanted to know.

"It's called script," Draco told them. "We'll teach you how to do it. If you want it right now though I can write it for you in marker and you can go over it with the glitter glue."

"Will you do mine?" Caela asked.

"And mine?"

"And mine?"

Harry shook his head and clapped his hands to get their attention. "Would anyone like to do theirs like mine or do you all want script?"

Teddy looked up at him. "I'll do yours."

"Me too," Michael said.

"Let's do this," Draco suggested. "If you want a stocking name like Harry's go and sit by him. If you want yours to look like mine, come sit by me."

The children hopped down from chairs and rearranged themselves. When all of the stockings had names Riordan asked, "Are we going to have lessons now?"

"Lessons are done until after the new year," Harry decided suddenly. "You may go play."

"Can we watch the show you were talking about?" This came from Marcus.

"After lunch."

"Yay!"

"What are we watching," Draco asked as they collected the stockings and cleaned up the glitter glue that had still managed to spill on the table. "These were a much better option by the way."

"But there's still glitter everywhere," Harry commented.

"It might just be leftover from yesterday. I told you I saw it, and I really wasn't just being a pain."

"Possibly, anyway, we're watching Santa Claus is Coming To Town. It was created to answer all kinds of questions children have about Santa. It's cute. I've seen it before."

"I'll take your word for it until I see it. Now, how do we attach all of these to the fireplace? There really isn't room. And how do we do it so that the children aren't upset at the order."

"That's the easy part, we go left to right oldest to youngest, which puts you first."

"Me?"

"You are older than I am."

"Thanks for the reminder," Draco groaned.

"You act as if you're ancient."

"Sometimes I feel that way."

"Sometimes we all feel that way."

Draco nodded, "So, temporary sticking charm?"

"Yes. I'll organize them you start hanging them."

"They're not going to fit."

"You'll see."

Ten minutes later Draco stepped back and stared. "They do fit. How did that work? The stockings shrank didn't they?"

"Perhaps, or perhaps I'm just really good at measuring."

"Whatever, it looks good. I'm going to go check on the kids."

"I'll go check in with Kreacher and see what he's making for lunch then I'm going to start getting things ready for the party."

"Harry, that's not for two days."

"I know, but I want to be ready."

"Have you ever thrown a party before?"

"No."

"I'll be back down shortly."

"You don't have to do that. I'm the one that decided to throw a party and it's my house."

Stung Draco didn't reply for a moment, then he simply nodded and left the room.

Shite, my house, it is but shite! I shouldn't have said that.