Draco gave the password to that huge monstrosity of a portrait and slipped up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. It was a cold winter day, but it was scorching in Gryffindor tower. Or at least he thought so. Of course he spent every night in the famously-cold Slytherin dungeons.

It was strange to see the Gryffindor tower so devoid of humanity, but then Harry had said that it would be empty. It was dinner time, and that might be why.

"Hey there, sexy." Draco teased as he entered the dorm room. Harry was sitting at his desk, presumably working on the Potions essay due tomorrow.

"Hey," Harry beamed and pushed his Potions book aside.

"Is that the best 'Hello' you can muster, Potter?"

"Hm, let me try again." Harry said and slinked over to the blonde before drawing him in for a long kiss.

"That's much better," whispered the Slytherin, and Harry laughed, going back to his seat. God the boy was hot, especially in the new clothes Draco had bought him as an extremely late birthday present—dark slacks that prevented Draco's imagination from over working itself, and a forest green sweater that did wonders for Harry's eyes. "What are you working on?"

"Your bitch teacher's stupid essay. Seriously—why the hell do I care how hollysprock is used?"

"Um, because it'll save you're life?"

"Yeah, if I'm ever bitten by a vampire during a full moon sometime between September and December." Harry said, showing Draco the text in the book. "What are the chances?"

"With your luck? I mean, what are the chances that an evil wizard is going to rise from the dead and attach himself to the back of your professor's scull and try once again to kill you?"

"Wow, thanks so much for bringing that up. I had only just begun to stop thinking about it."

"Oh, shush." Draco laughed and Harry shook his head as he got back to his essay.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about, anyway? You should have seen Ron and Hermoine's faces when I told them you wanted to talk to me alone."

"Why? I talk to you alone all the time." Draco said, suddenly nervous. He leaned back against the desk for support.

"Yeah, but you never specifically ask to talk to me alone. We always just happen to be alone and then we talk. I'm pretty sure Hermoine thinks you're going to break it off with me."

"Oh…and…what do you think?"

Harry looked up from his book and smiled. "I'm not worried. I know you can't live without me and be happy."

"Arsehole," scoffed Draco, but he didn't sound as if his heart were in it.

"So if that's not it, then what did you want to talk to me about oh-so-privately?" Harry questioned, bending over his parchment. He seemed too engrossed in his essay to really push Draco towards answering, and Draco procrastinated with his devastating news by staring at his boyfriend. His real boyfriend. Ever since his parent's visit there was no more semi-boyfriend, kind-of-boyfriend, or sex-slave. Harry was his boyfriend and the few students who were too blind to notice their five-month affair were finally informed of the strange alliance.

Draco knew that he and Harry were beyond different—they were polar opposites. But these differences hadn't stopped them from turning hatred into ardor, and Draco still looked back on those power-play struggles/love-making sessions as some of the hottest he'd ever had. Now that they were official it was more difficult to ignore their differences. And he was about to add to the problem. But it really couldn't be helped.

"The reason I wanted to talk to you…is, well…it's hard to say."

"Just say it. It can't be that bad."

"Actually…it can. My parents want you to stay with us for Christmas break."

"Fuck that." Harry said without pausing his in his writing.

"…Excuse me?" Draco asked in harsh surprise, knowing he had heard correctly but giving Harry the chance to revise his statement.

"No, like, literally—fuck that." Harry said again, putting down his quill and sitting back in his chair, looking at Draco defiantly.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that, under the Cruciatus curse, there is no fucking way I'm going stay with your parents over the holidays. Besides, the Weasleys already invited me to stay at the Burrow over holidays." Harry said as he put his Potions book away in his satchel.

"Yeah, well, you're not dating the Weasleys!"

"You don't know that."

"Harry James Potter—you are so shacking up with me over holidays!"

"Why should I? Your parents' visit in October was horrid enough, what's the point? Why add to their anguish by flaunting our relationship right under their noses? Your dad could have a stroke, and then where would you be?"

"Don't be stupid! My parents are the ones that want us to spend Christmas with them! Obviously they don't mind our relationship."

"My God! I thought Slytherins were renowned for their evil intellect!"

"What are you going on about?" Draco drawled, feigning boredom as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"You parents obviously only want us close enough to break us up! They realize they don't have enough personal presence to do it from the Manor, so they're bringing us within sabotage range!" Harry was actually so into the argument that he hopped up from his chair in order to properly yell.

"You are so paranoid!"

"I'm practical! It's what you're supposed to be good at, self-proclaimed Prince of Slytherin."

"You are both ridiculous AND coming to the Manor this Christmas!"

"Oh, yeah, okay. That convinced me. I'm all for it now."

Draco opened his mouth to shout something mean at his idiot boyfriend, and then stopped himself. He took a deep breath, and unwound his tightened limbs. He calmed himself. He let his arms lose. Harry seemed unnerved.

Good.

"Harry," Draco started gently.

"Oh, shit," Harry swore. Draco smiled slightly as he slunk to his boyfriend and wrapped his arms carefully around the boy's neck. Harry seemed to know that he was done for, and simply let his hands rest on the blonde's slim hips, looking sulky.

"Harry. You mean everything to me. I'm asking you for one thing. I just want to spend Christmas with the boy I love."

"You are so vile." Harry groaned, and he dropped his head back in defeat.

"You give in, then?" Draco asked, kissing and nipping his way up the exposed neck.

"Do I have a choice? You played your trump card." Harry replied, dropping his head back down dejectedly. Draco was beaming. Damn, he was good at this!

"We'll be fine, Golden Boy. They couldn't get me to break up with you back in October." Draco reasoned.

"Yeah, but by now they've had time to plan!"

"I love you, Harry. I'm not going to leave you." Draco whispered, pulling the boy close. Harry's arms slid around his body and he sighed heavily.

"Yeah, well, let's just see how you feel after the holidays."

XXX

"I can't stay with you over break." Harry grumbled to his friend as he finally arrived at the Great Hall in time for dessert.

"What?! Why not? Did the ferret say you can't stay with me—because screw him!" Ron yelled, stopping halfway through his treacle tart. Hermoine put down her book to hear the events, too.

"His parents want us to stay at the Manor over holidays."

"Fuck that." Ron said, folding his arms grumpily over his chest and pouting angrily.

"That's what I said."

"Tell him no!"

"I can't, he played his trump card." Harry sighed. Everyone within ear shot cringed at this news.

"Ouch, tough one, Harry." Seamus said apologetically.

"There's no way out of that one." Parvati agreed.

"Don't you have like a counter-trump card or something?" Dean questioned.

"I wish. I have a pity card, but that's about it."

"What's his trump card? Is it good?" Neville asked avidly. Harry didn't think Neville had ever had a girl friend, although he was a wonderful bloke, so Neville always seemed overly interested in everyone else's relationships.

"It's the 'I love you' card coupled with the 'If you did this for me it would make me very happy' card. It gets me every time." Harry shook his head woefully even as he said it.

"That is tough." Seamus nodded.

"He doesn't usually use it unless there's no other choice—I think he's afraid I'll build up a tolerance to it."

"I remember Hannah Abbott always used the 'all the other boyfriends do it' card. That's how I ended up in Madame Puddifoot's so often." Dean admitted. Everyone nodded in mutual suffering; except Lavender.

"What's wrong with that?" she asked cluelessly.

"Don't you Gryffindors do anything but gossip?" a familiarly icy voice questioned.

Draco pulled his boyfriend's head back by the hair and pecked him on the lips before insinuating himself between Harry and Ron.

"We were just talking about you and your unadulterated evilness." Harry explained in a dark tone.

"That's nice. Ugh, I'm starving. I didn't get back in time to eat any real food."

"There's plenty of food." Harry said, motioning to the table full of hot chocolate, treacle tarts, and ice cream.

"You're going to be a fat old man one day, Harry Potter. And this is why."

"Yeah, well, you'll be dating a fat old man, so why bother watching your figure? Have some treacle tart."

Draco shrugged and dug into Harry's treacle tart.

"Okay, because mine is more appetizing than all those uneaten treacle tarts sitting right in front of you."

Draco only smiled and kissed him again.

"You're looking pretty happy, Malfoy." Hermoine said.

"Of course I'm happy—I won."

"Okay, let's get this straight. You didn't win. You cheated." Harry reminded.

"Who cares if I cheated? I still won."

"That wraps up Slytherin in a nutshell." Seamus sighed.

"I know it—did you see them in the Hufflpuff game? How Madam Hooch missed all those fouls I'll never know!" Dean agreed.

"Excuse me!" Draco cried out angrily.

"Okay, just tell me, do you guys practice for subtly fouling other players?"

"If that's what they practice then it explains why their team is so abysmal this year. Fouling is about the only thing they're good at." Ron said, clearly enjoying getting back at the blonde one way or another.

"Oh don't even start, Weasel. I don't see where you get off calling other teams abysmal when you are by and large the worst Keeper I have ever seen!"

"Don't think that just because you can't live without my best friend and be happy means I won't curse you into next week, Malfoy!" Ron shouted back, and the table erupted into laughter as the blonde's face went scarlet.

"And we're done. Come on, Draco. Thanks guys, so much. I'll have to deal with him when he recovers his capabilities for speech, you know." Harry grumbled, pulling the blonde up and out of the Great Hall.

"How can you be friends with that freckled little excuse for matter—stupid, poor, hideous—thinks he's so great just because he's friends with the Boy Who Lived." Draco was growling to himself as Harry led him to the Slytherin dungeons.

"Could you please not call me that?" Harry said through gritted teeth, trying to be patient as his boyfriend vented.

"That's exactly what it is! It was pure coincidence in any case! Just because he met you first—he's got no right! I mean I'm dating the Boy Who Lived, that has to make me better than his stupid best friend."

"Knock it off!" Harry shouted, turning on the blonde. "Harry. My name is not the Boy Who Lived, or anything else the tabloids come up with, got it? Harry."

Draco had shrunk against the stone wall in surprise at Harry's outburst and stayed put as the boy calmed down.

"I'm sorry. I just…I'm sorry." Harry sighed, scrubbing at his eyes under his glasses. "I guess I'm just stressed with this stupid Manor stuff. And now that we're dating you and Ron never get along—I'm always running interference between you two. I just feel so—I don't even know. Pulled apart." He leaned back against the wall opposite the blonde, and Draco realized how exhausted Harry seemed lately. This relationship obviously took more of a toll on Harry who actually cared about his friends and their happiness. Draco knew that few of his "friends" supported his relationship with the Gryffindor, but he really couldn't care less. One thing he had learned from life was to always put himself first, so how his actions affected others played very little part in his decision-making process. For some reason he had never thought that Harry would feel differently. He should have known better.

Whatever you're feeling, that's the opposite of what Potter's feeling, Draco reminded himself harshly.

He moved from the wall and wrapped his arms tightly around Potter's waist, relief flooding him when the brunette responded with his own embrace.

"I'm sorry. You're a wonderful boyfriend and I'm sorry, Harry. It means so much to me that you're coming with me for holidays—I know that it's a big concession."

Harry rested his cheek on top of Draco's head and took a deep breath.

"Thanks. I do want to spend Christmas with you."

Draco smiled sadly. "Just not with my family."

There was a long pause, which Draco thought was appropriate. But instead of finally putting forth something equally melodramatic, Harry said,

"Well, I mean…your dad has tried to murder me on a number of occasions. I suppose that would put a strain on any relationship," forcing Draco to laugh when he really did want that dramatic ending.