Disclaimer: JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.
Rated: M for language and some sexual situations.
Warnings: There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.

A huge thankyou to all the lovely people who reviewed the last update, it means a LOT to me; the feedback is wonderful!

Draco has a little bit of "self-love" towards the end of this chapter; watch out ;) We're finally starting to get to the action guys!

Everyone was seated back in the living room on the sagging over-used furniture, and soft groaning was emitting from random people as they all lazed around with hands over their stomachs, everyone absolutely stuffed and having eaten far more than they should have. Teddy was upstairs, sleeping in Ginny – and for the holidays – Hermione's room, as Mrs. Weasley had objected to Ron sharing his room with her for the break, despite them sharing while they were at Hogwarts. A combination of good food and alcohol had lead to everyone slipping into an almost stupor-like state.

It was because of this, that - at first - the handsome, dark-feathered owl carrying a letter addressed to Harry went unnoticed. It pecked incessantly at the window for a few moments before setting the letter down on the sill and emitting a loud screech. Percy was closest to the window and he rose stiffly, opening it and taking the letter from beneath the owl's feet. The bird hopped inside and flew over to Harry, resting on the arm of his chair expectantly. Harry blinked stupidly, before realising that it must be waiting for a reply of some sort to the letter it had delivered. He took the heavy parchment gratefully from Percy and let the owl rest on his arm as he excused himself to make his slow way up the stairs to Ron's room, where he would be sleeping for the night, to answer the letter privately.

Settling himself down at Ron's messy and cluttered desk, he unfolded the parchment carefully as the owl which had delivered it hopped on to the desk; finding a small space amongst the items which littered it and rested it head under its wing while it waited for the reply.

Harry scanned the first few lines of the neat letter, his heart speeding up as he realised it was from Draco, and he couldn't stop the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Dear Harry,

I've always been taught that a Malfoy such as myself should wait a minimum of five days before contacting a potential courting partner after a first encounter. Father always instructed that anything sooner than that would make me appear desperate; and a Malfoy retains composure at all times.

Seeing that written down makes it look as ridiculous as I have always felt our little 'tradition' to be. With you, Harry, five days is simply far too long, but I've waited three in an attempt to please Father. Before your eyes widen with shock as I know they will, no. He doesn't know about us. What kind of idiot do you take me for? I am not the weasel.

Sitting downstairs at dinner, as exquisite and extravagant as it was, made me realise that I miss you Harry. As unfortunate as it is, we cannot meet during the break. Mother would want to know where exactly I am going, and who with. It is far too complicated to fabricate some lie about arranging an engagement with friends when I am still struggling in that particular area. I'm certain our Floo network is also still under loose observation by the Ministry, so we cannot meet that way either.

I have reached the conclusion that the only way we can communicate this holiday is by letter; and I hope this one finds you in good health and spirits. Merry Christmas Harry,

Yours,

Draco.

Harry grinned as he traced Draco's elegant, inked script with his fingers. It certainly wasn't the romantic poem from a far off lover that often arrived in books and films; but it was full of Draco's characteristic quirks, and Harry loved them. Only he could refer to what they had between them as "potential courting partners". He smiled at Draco's trademark insult of Ron, knowing that it was no longer full of the previous venom and spite it had once been.

Though a little saddened by his logical reasoning that they really shouldn't meet up during the break, it pleased Harry to see the blond's bold admittance that he missed him. He knew that Draco would never admit to missing anyone outright, so he felt touched that the other had confided the tiny piece of valuable information about himself to Harry.

Pulling a sheet of fresh parchment towards him and summoning a quill and some ink, he penned his reply to Draco carefully.

Dear Draco,

I thought you wouldn't write to me at all. You've always been such a proud, stuck-up git. Glad to see you've gotten over it. I miss you too. Though people surrounded me today, none of them were you. Has it really only been three days? It feels like much longer.

And please don't insult my friends. You know they still call you 'Ferret' behind your back, don't you? Good.

I know you said it wouldn't be advisable to see each other, but are you free at midnight on New Year's Eve? There's a certain tradition I'd quite like to carry out with you in relation to that time.

And is it really necessary to be so formal when you introduced yourself to my tonsils less than a week ago?

Harry.

Harry silently thanked the three or four glasses of magical liquor he'd had to drink during the day as he woke the sleeping owl and tied the loosely rolled scroll of parchment to its leg. He'd never have been able to write a letter like that to Draco sober. Hopefully it would break the ice that appeared to have formed between them due to distance and time as they fell back into stiff habits.

He watched the owl fly off into the distance nervously as he observed his reply moving further and further away. Standing up rather ungracefully in the now dark room, he moved out to the hall and made his way back down to the living room, flopping down on to his empty chair and answering the questioning looks he received with a "Letter from some journalist. Told them to stop working over the holiday period and go eat some turkey."

This raised a few laughs and soon everyone was back in conversation again as they digested their enormous portions of food; Mr. Weasley quizzing Harry and Hermione on a range of Muggle items and their uses, while Percy and Charlie chased lazily after George and Ginny, having finally discovered the edited lettering on their knitted jumpers and and Andromeda chatted amicably between themselves.

Much later into the evening when everyone had drunk far more than was necessary and attempted to dance their way around the crowded living room to the Muggle tune "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree" and several other popular carols, both wizarding and non-wizarding, everyone once again collapsed laughing and tired back into their respective seats where they remained for another hour or two before dragging their heavy selves to bed.

Climbing into the small camp bed in Ron's room, Harry thought about Draco and his letter as he pulled the sheets over himself, falling into a deep sleep grinning inanely at the thought of the blond and resisting the temptation to encourage the growing erection that was trying to make itself known as his thoughts turned to ones less and less acceptable in polite society.

Several miles away, a certain Slytherin did not have to resist that particular temptation. With nobody to disturb him, Draco let his hand wander south, dipping past the waistband of his nightwear; thoughts and images of Harry whirling around his fogged brain as he gripped his hardening, swollen cock; gently caressing himself as his release built up. With each stroke of his hand he imagined that it was Harry's fingers that closed around the base of his cock, Harry's thumb that teased the dripping slit with its soft pad, Harry's gentle caresses that were placed on the skin of his sac, weighing and fondling his balls as though they were precious jewels and applying just the right amount of pressure to ensure Draco's pleasure heightened with each swift jerk he gave himself. He let his free hand wander back up to brush against his chest, and he pinched a pert nipple, gasping at the sudden, short wave of pleasure that cascaded through him at the simple touch as he continued to move his other hand over his cock, imagining it still to be Harry that was touching him.

When white finally overcame his vision, the sticky liquid that spilled from him was accompanied by a soft moan of a certain black-haired Gryffindor's name as he lay back against the fluffy pillows, panting hard.