Summary: Voldemort has an unusual way of waking Harry up this Christmas. Slash.
Warnings: Fluffy, Voldemort a bit OOC (meaning, he has his Horcruxes but has emotions, sort of).
Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing fanfiction.
Enjoy this short one-shot!
Harry felt the bed dip and groaned. It was barely any light outside and the room was bloody freezing cold. He tugged the covers higher and said:
"Any reason why you're up on Christmas morning as if you're an excited child, my dear Dark Lord?"
There was no answer. Of all the times for Voldemort to remain silent… Harry sighed. He could not, would not, give in. He was more patient now than when he was a teen. After all, he'd turned twenty-eight already and temper tantrums when living with an emotionally compromised Dark Lord would create more trouble than he wanted. Dealing with Voldemort's tantrums were more than enough.
A puff of breath on his cheek distracted him. Harry swatted at Voldemort's head and said:
"Voldemort, words. Use your words, love, I know you can do that. You love hearing your own voice after all."
"Well, that's a start. What do you want?"
Voldemort nuzzled his cheek and Harry finally opened his eyes fully. Voldemort smiled, but his arm was holding something above them… Harry looked up. He stared at the object for a bit before turning his head back at Voldemort who smiled in amusement.
Voldemort shrugged and held the mistletoe aloft as he gently kissed Harry. Harry couldn't do anything but chuckle into Voldemort's mouth at that. Voldemort wasn't big on Christmas, or holidays in any way. He'd been surprised when Harry remembered his birthday and had made a cake.
Lucius always had to remind Voldemort when Harry's birthday was, and if there was some significant date Voldemort was supposed to remember since he now was in a relationship with someone who clearly remembered holidays.
"Did Lucius tell you about mistletoes?" Harry said huskily as they finally separated.
Voldemort let the mistletoe fall down and shook his head.
"I remembered it myself," he said. "People went on and on about it, even at Hogwarts during my years there… despite it not being magic tradition."
"I don't know, the mistletoe is pretty powerful. It's kind of cute when you remember things like that. The big bad Dark Lord remembers teen gossip."
"It sounds worse when you summarize it like that," Voldemort growled. "Are you getting up or not?"
"It's…" Harry grabbed his wand and cast a tempus spell. "It's early, anyway, and we have nothing on schedule. How about you stop with a workaholic and slip under the covers?"
Voldemort shrugged off his outer robe and shoes before doing just that.
"You're naked," he pointed out as Harry snuggled up to him.
"Yeah, and whose fault is that?" Harry wondered.
"Oh, yes, that would be me…"
Harry moved so he could put his wand away but before that he made the mistletoe hover above them. Voldemort hissed at it, but relented and kissed Harry again.
"Narcissa will be so proud to hear that you remembered something romantic on your own instead of having to hear it from her or Lucius," Harry murmured.
"Soon I won't be romantic anymore if you insist on saying things like that."
But the mistletoe appeared in the doorway to the living room later that day, and it wasn't Harry that had moved it. He'd been far too busy with other things, and while it largely had been in the bedroom he also checked in on the house-elves with the food, and prepared the last of the manor for a small gathering. Just him, Voldemort, the Malfoy family and a couple of friends.
Harry liked to say that word a lot in front of Voldemort, because he still looked adorably confused over the concept of actually having friends.
The Malfoys arrived first, along with Severus. Narcissa greeted Harry with kisses on his cheeks and then said:
"You've certainly put some Christmas spirit into the manor, it looks lovely."
"Well, it's not like I gave Voldemort much choice in the matter. He's just glad I didn't coat the manor red from top to bottom."
"It would certainly clash with some of the interior," she admitted.
"Not to mention he'd scream his bloody head off. Drinks?"
Luna Lovegood arrived later, one of the few friends that stuck with him even after he got together with Voldemort. She said the Nargles accepted the Dark Lord, and no, neither Harry nor Voldemort tried to make her explain what the hell that meant.
"You alone tonight?" Harry asked as he took her outer robe.
"Neville will be joining us later," she said dreamily. "He was taking care of a plant."
"Of course he was. Neville sure loves his plants."
"Are the twins coming?"
"They said they would. Knowing Fred and George, they'll probably try climb through the chimney for some holiday spirits."
"Will you feel the holiday spirits then?"
"Not sure, but I'll laugh when I see the look on Voldemort's face."
The twins didn't come through the chimney, but commented about the mistletoe; it was a first for Harry and Voldemort to have one up. Harry glanced at Voldemort. Voldemort determinedly did not look at him. Harry grinned.
"Voldemort put it up," he said.
"What?" Fred said. "Did I just hear what I just heard, George?"
"I think you did, Fred, if you heard that Voldemort was the one to put up mistletoe."
"Yes, George, that's exactly what I heard. Voldemort put up…"
"Do you two ever shut up?" Voldemort growled.
"Is he blushing?" George whispered to Fred.
Voldemort sent a jinx at them. The twins shrieked and ran away, Voldemort following them. Harry sat back against the couch and smiled at Luna, Neville and the Malfoy family. Severus had retreated into a corner with a drink and nose buried in a book; he barely looked up at the commotion. Lucius stared after the Dark Lord and then said:
"I think he actually was blushing."
"Oh, that's adorable. More drinks, anyone?" Harry said.
He made a point to kiss Voldemort under the mistletoe later. Because he could. When Voldemort sputtered and hid his face, Harry only laughed and pulled him close again.
"It's a nice addition," he whispered into the Dark Lord's ear. "I think we'll put it up against next year."
Voldemort could bemoan his fate how much he wanted, or curse himself for being a romantic; when it all came down to it, the mistletoe was his fault. Harry just made sure to have as much fun as he could with it.
Hope you enjoyed! Happy holidays everyone!