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Author note: Short and fluffy, just the way I like 'em.
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The knitting needles were hurting his fingers. He promised himself he would never say another bad word about anything his mother made him. He wished he knew her secret. Sure there were quick-knitting spells, and he could easily do one, but he wanted to do this himself. It was the only way to get out how he really felt.

Somehow, he finished. He looked at his work, which was a bit lopsided and sloppy, but at least it was done. He smiled, before wrapping it up and sending it with pig. He couldn't wait to see his face when he got it. He hoped he understood.

Christmas morning was just him and Harry that year. Hermione was with her parents and no doubt were they eating sugar-free treats and trading toothbrushes. Harry was once again shocked at the presents under the tree, including the one from Ron. It was assorted candies and a wizard novel about some mystery. Ron had read the back of the book and thought of Harry immediately.

Ron's mother had sent him a sweater. It had an 'R' on it and he pulled it on, felt the warmth come over him. How he looked forward to the sweaters, as much as they didn't fit and were quite ugly. She'd sent some goodies, too, and he didn't want to wait to eat them, but Harry was begging him to go to breakfast. That's when he saw the gift. It was on the very bottom, and wrapped in silver.

Ron carefully opened it, keeping the paper as neat as possible. Inside was a book about the Chudley Cannon's. A very boring gift from the person he loved. He read the card - which was just as devoid of emotion as the present. He kept brushing his fingers around every inch of the paper, hoping there was something he couldn't see. But it was just as it seemed. He tossed the book, unopened on his nightstand and left for breakfast.

"The decorations are as beautiful as ever." Harry remarked, walking next to his best friend. Ron's head was elsewhere, thinking about how much he'd put into his present. How much care he'd shown to it, even if it wasn't perfect.

"Weasley." Draco called out from behind the boys. They spun around to face a very red-faced (which was a very different look for him) Malfoy standing there, trying to catch his breath.

"What?" Ron asked, wanting to kiss him right then and there. His cheeks were rosy and his hair was mussed, but he still looked perfect in every way. "Harry, go on ahead, I'll meet you inside." He said and Harry looked warily at the blond boy, but went on to the Great Hall by himself without looking back.

"You made me a sweater." Draco said, breathlessly.

"Yes." Ron replied, feeling awkward. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands or how to stand. He just stood a few feet away from him and looked into his eyes.

"A Weasley sweater." He said again.

"And you got me a book." Ron replied, feeling a bit angry. Draco looked a bit confused.

"You didn't look inside?" Draco asked, tugging at his sleeves. He was wearing the sweater, and Harry probably hadn't noticed. It was dark green with a bright silver 'D' emblazed on the front. It'd taken awhile for Ron to get the hang of it, but the D was nearly perfect.

"No." He said, still feeling very awkward.

"Well, do it later, alright?" Draco said, and pecked him on the lips and walked into the great hall, still wearing his Weasley Sweater.

There were few people eating breakfast, and Dumbledore smiled at Ron as he came in. Draco was sitting next to a boy in his house and was talking about quidditch. Harry was looking at Draco's chest at the D. Ron sat down next to him, smiled nervously, and helped himself to a plate full of waffles.

-

"Why does Draco have a Weasley sweater?" Harry asked after breakfast. Ron was itching to look inside his book, but was currently being interrogated by Harry in the common room in front of a warm fire.

"I think I might love him." Ron said quietly, not sure of them. He hadn't even told Draco, how could he tell Harry first? "I made it for him." He added.

"But why?"

"Why anything?" Ron asked and got up and went to their room. Harry sat staring at the fire thinking.

The book was cold to his fingers, and he opened it up. He saw a wizard zoom past on a broomstick and it was the Chudley seeker. He turned a few pages, saw nothing, and kept going. Still nothing. On the very last page it said 'I love you' and had a picture of a winking Draco. He smiled to himself. He knew his sweater was the perfect gift, but this was pretty good as well.

-

Draco was sitting outside, the snow collecting in his hair. He was wearing his warm sweater that smelled like Weasley. He was busy hoping Weasley didn't come out and laugh at him. And if he did, Draco was completely prepared to tell him it was all a joke. He certainly wouldn't love someone like him. Yes, that's what he'd tell Weasley when he inevitably told him he didn't love him back.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, Ron was standing there. Wearing his own Weasley sweater and shivering a bit. He smiled when Draco opened his eyes and bent down to give him a soft kiss. His nose was cold on Draco's face.

"I do too, you know." Ron said, and instantly wanted to go back in time and phrase it better.

"Of course you do, we Malfoy's are irrestible." Draco said smiling at him, his cheeks freezing but he was so happy he didn't care. He just leaned over and kissed Ron until he was as warm as he could be. He knew exactly the way Ron wanted to be kissed and how to make him squirm. He knew everything about Ron, and if he didn't, he would soon. This was the boy he loved.

-

They walked inside, hands entwined. Ron's smile was huge and Draco was laughing at something silly. Harry saw the two and wished he had what they had. He didn't stop to think about who Draco was or anything, because Ron wouldn't have made a sweater for just anyone. Getting a Weasley Sweater is a pretty big deal.

Ron turned to Draco, "I'm sorry it isn't perfect. Your sweater, I mean." He was blushing.

Draco smiled, "It doesn't have to be. Now let's go get to work on taking these sweaters off, I'm sweating up a storm." He said raising an eyebrow. Ron smiled at him.

That night, two Weasley sweaters lay on the ground by the bed. After all, what goes on must come off.

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A/N: Review if you too want a Weasley Sweater. I sure as hell know I want one.