A/N: I told kitaro-yuta about a month ago that I'd write her a Christmas oneshot between Harry and Draco, so here it is. I'm terribly sorry it took so long, but at least it's in time for the wonderful holiday spirit.


Draco Malfoy stood in front of the mirror, his lips curling into a disgusted sneer. "This is absolutely ridiculous. There's no way I'm wearing this." He scanned himself up and down and lifted his nose in the air in a rather pompous fashion.

"Draco, don't but such a git. I let you decorate. Gods know I don't want green and silver hanging from every, little corner, but here we are. And I promised Hermione." Harry ran a hand through his hair and gave the Slytherin a shy smile. Still, Draco's scowl was unrelenting.

"I don't care what you promised Granger. Get me out of this thing."

"Well, look on the bright side. It's Slytherin colours. It could always be worse. It could be Gryffindor co–"

"Don't you even joke about that!" A visible shiver ran down the blond's spine, and he momentarily closed his eyes.

"Well, I guess you don't really love me if you don't want to wear this." Harry's sniffle resonated around the room and he dejectedly hung his head, eyes wide and filled with mock hurt. Immediately, as he knew the reaction would be, pale, slender arms wrapped around his waist.

"Alright. I'll wear them. But don't expect me to enjoy it." Harry gave a smug smile, but pecked Draco on the lips. Just in time, a loud knock echoed through the house.

"That must be Ron and Hermione!" Harry jumped out of Draco's grip, sprinting to the door like an overly eager child at a birthday party. Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes at this un-Slytherin like behaviour, but proceeded to greet Harry's two best friends.

"Weasley. Granger." Each was met with a curt nod, though a slight smile. It had been hard for Draco to let go of his childhood rivalry, but he had been willing to even give up his status for Harry.

"Your outfit – it's priceless," Ron choked between breaths, his face red as he giggled rather uncharacteristically. And indeed, it was quite a sight to behold. Harry had promised Hermione that he and Draco would dress up as 'Santa's elves' for the Christmas party. Harry had taken quite the Muggle approach, dressing them in tights which clung to their thighs like a wet shirt would to the chest ("The only thing good about this outfit," Draco had complained to Harry, "is that you can't seem to take your eyes off of me."). The shirt involved buttons made of silver jingle bells, and the hat curled 'round at the tip. A stripped long-sleeved shirt was worn underneath the short-sleeved one, and Draco thought it made him look rather much like a Slytherin candy cane. After all, Harry had attempted to somewhat appease Draco by making it a silver and green colour scheme.

"I told you it was ridiculous." Draco was not pleased. After all, a Weasley was insulting him and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. That was enough reason to be miserable.

"I never disagreed with that statement."

"Never said you did, but you did force us into these hideous outfits. Are you sure it isn't against the law to wear something like this? At least, it has to go against multiple fashion laws."

"Pompous git."

"Idiot Gryffindor." Hermione cleared her throat, interrupting their moment of 'tender affection'. Both pairs of eyes swivelled to her. A delicate shade of pink – one rivalling even Ron's blush – settled on Harry's face. Meanwhile, beside him, the Slytherin smirked.

"I think both of you look sweet," Hermione murmured, an amused smile on her face. Draco's face turned incredulous and he shook his head wildly, running his hands through his platinum blond hair and knocking his hat off of his head.

"What are you smirking at, Weasley? At least I'm not dressed like some ancient crackpot." This successfully wiped the victorious grin off of the redhead's face, and he instead scowled.

"'Mione put me up to this. I can't help it. How could I saw no to her?" He gave her a timid side glance. She returned it, chocolate eyes filled with a melt-your-heart sort of expression.

"It's simple, really. You just say no. I think I do it every time she comes over. In fact, I'm sure I do. I know it's difficult for someone as thick as you are to understand this…"

"I'm not thick," Ron grumbled. Both of the other Gryffindors remained silent with crooked grins, waiting for Draco's retort. And sure enough, he didn't disappoint.

"Sure, compared to a mountain troll, you're brilliant. Can we stop arguing about this? You'd think you would have come in by now. Gryffindors talk to no end." Rolling his eyes and lifting his hands in the air dramatically, he swept into the living room. "Still, I can't wait to see how your children are going to react. Do Rose and Hugo know that you're going to be Santa this year?"

"You didn't tell them, did you Ron?" Hermione asked, giving him a sternly disapproving look.

"Well, no. But I think Hugo saw the costume."

"Always sticking his head where he shouldn't be," Harry remarked with a chuckle.

"Why does that remind me of you and Harry?" Draco grinned and nudged Harry.

"Well, I don't know about Weasley, but you certainly seem to be the expert at sticking your head in places where it shouldn't be. Actually, I take that back, I quite like it when you–"

"Well, that's been lovely, but we've got some cooking to do, don't we, 'Mione?" Ron interrupted, glaring daggers at the other couple. Draco had pulled up against Harry as he spoke, and their lips were mere millimetres apart, eyes hazed over with lust.

"Come on, Santa, I'll show you what we've made so far," Draco grinned. "By the way, I like your hair long and white; it's an improvement from that ginger mess. But the beard lacks some." He gave Weasley a wink and gracefully sauntered to the kitchen. Ron followed him, glaring angrily down at his jiggling, magically-created belly.

Draco spread out a hand, displaying the mounds of food he and Harry had spent all of yesterday making. Grinning, he watched as Ron's eyes widened and he glanced around hungrily. "Woah, what is all of this?"

"We made bouillabaisse, lamb chops, chipolata, turkey, shepherd's pie…" Draco listed.

"Treacle tart, Christmas pudding, cranberry sauce, trifle…" Harry added. Both grinned and shared a glance, obviously pleased with themselves.

"Did you leave anything for us to make?" Hermione asked in exasperation.

"Well, you can always make some kind of dessert. I'm sure the kids and Harry will want plenty of sweets."

"Why Harry?" Ron asked, still eying all the food, fingers twitching as he resisted reaching out.

"He's always had a bit of a sweet tooth, haven't you, Harry?" Arms snaked around Draco's waist and a head nuzzled up into his neck and shoulder. Feathers of raven hair brushed against his skin and a smile nested on Draco's lips.

"I think I have all the sweets I need right here," he muttered, turning his Slytherin around and placing a light, playful kiss on his lips.

"Mmm, do you?" Draco pressed once more into Harry's lips, slowly prying them open with his tongue. It prodded out, gently sliding against Harry's lower lip, then his upper, before settling inside his mouth. Tongues wrestled, and an arm snaked around Harry's petit waist, drawing them closer together until their bodies pressed. A moan escaped the Gryffindor's lips and his eyes flickered open so that emerald ones met a smouldering hazy blue-grey pair.

When the finally pulled back, Draco tilted his head to the side in mock contemplation before announcing, "I taste vanilla and a hint of cinnamon."

"You forgot the chocolate," Harry added with a wink. Draco's pale, slender fingers ran through his hair, sharply contrasting the obsidian colour.

"You two are always all over each other," Ron whined, a pout forming on his lips.

"All over each other? Oh, that's not all over each other. If you wanted to see all over each other, though, we could very easily show you," Draco huskily whispered, his hands roaming further down along Harry's body.

"Alright! Alright! I get it. I'd prefer if you didn't try to scar me forever," the ginger cried, shielding his eyes and wincing.

"Need a distraction, Ron?" Hermione asked, pulling Ron over, then laughing when the belly kept her from meeting his lips.

"I hate being Santa." Everyone except for Ron chuckled.

"Come on, we have a lot of work to do," Hermione said authoritatively, dragging Ron over to the cabinets. "We can find all the ingredients easily." The Slytherin and Gryffindor smiled, before the blond grabbed Harry by the wrist, pulling him out of the kitchen as quickly as possible.

"Care to continue where we cut off," the Slytherin purred, eyelids drooping seductively, revealing lustful silvery eyes.

"Oh, please do." The blond gave a mischievous smirk and placed his hands on Harry's hips. He leaned forward slightly, ignoring the obtrusive sound of the silver bells jangling. Light pink lips lightly grazed the Gryffindor's lips, and a raspberry-coloured tongue darted out, tracing down. At his touch, Harry shivered in anticipation and pleasure, letting himself melt into the Slytherin, letting his sense be moulded like Play-Dough.

The tongue lapped downward, curving toward his jaw, until it steadily ran along the edge, eliciting a moan from the raven-haired boy. Pale skin melted against tanned, and as his tongue dived down to Harry's neck, Draco's hands cupped around his jaw, fingers lightly tracing unseen patterns onto his skin. Slowly, the tip massaged into the sensitive spots in his neck, Draco knowing exactly which places would produce the most delicious, raw-sounding noises.

Harry's hands gripped strands of white-blonde hair, as those groans, moans, growls, only the gods knew what ripped from his throat. Only Draco knew him this well. He only trusted Draco, his Draco completely with his body. Before he knew what he was doing, Draco had brought his lips back up, crashing them against Harry's roughly enough that their teeth scraped together. Both tasted blood, but ignored it, instead marvelling in the unique taste of each other, and other spices that tinted their lips and mouths.

As they pulled back, gasping desperately for lungfuls of air, Harry managed to choke out, "Draco," roughly between gulps of air. His hands shakily reached until they lay victoriously over the bulge in the Slytherin's pants. An animal-like sound tore from the blond's throat, and he shoved Harry roughly against the wall, pressing so that, through their clothes, his length rubbed up against Harry's.

Both managed to produce strange, half-formed sounds as they attempted to create friction with their erect members. Pleasure seeped through their veins, and both felt something inexplicably blissful and all too wonderful build within them. They were so deliciously close to that release they both wanted. Hands wandered all across the other's body, desiring nothing but the searing feel of flesh against flesh. They coated each other with frantic, fervent kisses, ones wet with a burning lava that the skin absorbed like a swig of some super-power Felix Felicis.

"Do you guys have no shame whatsoever?" came Hermione's exasperated shout from the kitchen. "We can hear you from here. I think Ron may be sick. He's turning green." They ignored her, and continued, Draco's hands madly reaching for the hem of Harry's tights. "Let me put it this way. If you don't stop, I'll come in there and make you stop. People will be coming soon, and we can't have Santa's helpers naked and traumatising the kids. It just doesn't work like that."

Reluctantly, they pulled back, lips red and swollen, hair messy even for Draco, and clothes slightly crinkled. "Maybe later," Harry mumbled, pointing his wand at himself and changing his dishevelled appearance back to normal – well, minus the hair.

"Is that a promise?" A pale hand lay on the green cloth on Harry's shoulder and he looked up, surprised emeralds meeting predatory, clouded-silver orbs.

"I – I guess so." A bemused chuckle came forth from the Slytherin's throat, and hewinked, running a hand through his hair in a manner rather characteristic of Harry. It was interesting how they picked up little habits of the other.

"Excellent. Don't expect that I'll forget that anytime soon." He gave his Gryffindor a final peck on the cheek and strutted off. "Let's go help Weasley. If he's anywhere as competent at this as he is at Potions, he'll have blown up the kitchen by now."

"Oi!" the ginger shouted, scratching his nose with a flour-covered hand. "I'll have you know Hermione said I was perfectly good chef."

"I said you were decent, not 'perfectly good'," came the reply. Hermione had somehow managed to create in the short period of time that they were gone, a chocolate batter – one even Draco couldn't deny looked absolutely delicious.

They spent the next while in the kitchen, cooking and talking until the first knock of the door signified that it was indeed time for the party to start. Harry all but flew to the door, beaming widely and exclaiming, "Luna! Rolf!" before launching into crushing hugs. Lorcan and Lysander walked in with Rose and Hugo, chatting animatedly. Hermione greeted them as well, pulling Luna into a light hug.

"Thank you for taking care of the kids. I don't know how you managed all four of them." Luna shook her head, that familiarly distant smile plastered on her face. Rolf gave a bemused grin at Harry's and Draco's costumes, but said nothing.

"It was no problem, really," the Ravenclaw muttered, peering in at the tree. "Oh, you have mistletoe. I'd watch out for the Nargles." Rolf solemnly nodded beside her. It was difficult for the others not to laugh, but somehow they managed. Some things never changed.

"Uncle Draco!" Rose screamed excitedly, launching herself at the blond. "You look funny." At this precise moment, Ron chose to poke his head round the corner and lumber into view. The petit ginger's mouth dropped open and she giggled, staring at her father. "Mum, why is Daddy dressed like Santa?"

"Mum forced me into this, Rosie dear," Ron mumbled before stealing his daughter from Draco's grip. He added upon seeing Hermione's scowl, "But of course, Daddy wanted to be Santa, as well."

"I saw that costume. It was in your closet," Hugo shouted. "I told you," he screamed, sticking out his tongue at Lorcan and Lysander.

"Hugo, be nice," Hermione warned.

"Are you going to stand out there or let us in," came another voice from at the doorstep.

"Ginny!" Somehow they ended up crushed in a bear hug, Ginny's husband nodding politely at everyone.

"Hello Oliver. Always glad to have you with us." Oliver Wood winked at Harry. "How's the team doing?"

"Well, thanks."

"Harry, in case you haven't noticed, this is the part where we invite them inside," Draco interrupted.

"Oh, right. Well, come on in!"

People piled in, all of the Weasleys, more children, including Teddy, Neville and Hannah, even Blaise and Pansy, both with their (respective) wife and husband.

"I hear that Seamus is coming with his boyfriend, as is Dean."

"Both said they wanted to keep who it is a surprise. I wonder…" Ginny leaned forward, her plate sitting on her lap. It still had a dashing of mashed potato on it, as well as a turkey wing.

"O ab do et dis recpee 'Mi'ne," Ron choked out.

"Ron, do you never learn that you have to swallow before you speak!" Hermione threw her hands into the air in exasperation. "I tell you this time and time again. What did you say?" Rose giggled, staring at her father with a bemused expression.

"I said that you have to get this recipe. These lamb chops are amazing!"

"You think everything's amazing, Weasley. But I will say that it's a secret family glaze that makes it what it is," Draco replied, smirking.

"You never miss a chance to boast, do you?" Harry asked, his arm wrapped around Draco's waist.

"I wasn't the one who said that it was 'amazing'. Just giving Weasley a fair reply." All argument was abandoned yet more knocking came from the door.

"That'll be Dean!"

"Or Seamus!"

"Or both!" Harry, as he seemed to never lose energy, flung the door open.

"Where are you boyfriends?" he asked, craning his head around as if expecting someone to jump out screaming 'surprise!'

"You'll have to excuse Harry; he can be a little thick." Draco slid up beside Harry, the self-satisfied smirk still on his lips. "Glad to see you two have finally gotten together. It's just too bad it took you this long to realize you two were actually decent for one another."

"Did he actually just compliment us?" Dean asked, mock surprise pasted on his face.

"I believe he may have," Seamus replied, leaning closer to his boyfriend. Draco scowled.

"You Gryffindors take everything too dearly."

"Well, it's not every day you give out a compliment, Malfoy," Dean muttered.

"Just don't get used to it. The last thing I need is everyone thinking that I'm a sap." A hand tugged on Draco's sleeve and he looked down.

"Uncle Draco, now that everyone's here, can we maybe have desserts?" Teddy's wide, now-puppy eyes looked up at him, a pout accompanying it.

"Wonderful, using your Metamorphmagus powers to try and convince me? Well, it won't work." There was a little sniffle, and Teddy hung his head down. "Well, alright! Fine! Who wants dessert?"

"Aww, Draco, you really are a sap." Harry ruffled his hair and pulled him over to the couch. Everyone was forming a line at the table, reaching for sweets or helping their children get what they wanted. Harry and Draco, however, merely sat back and grinned at each other.

"I'd say this party is turning out to be a success," Draco muttered, pleased as he saw all the smiling faces of his friends.

"It most definitely is! And I want to try some of Hermione's cake. It looks delicious." With that he buried his head into Draco's neck, wisps of raven black hair tickling the blond's neck. Draco closed his eyes, a whisper of a purely blissful smile tracing his lips, and didn't notice when Luna and Ginny craned their necks, beaming at them.

"Well, get your lazy arse up, then!" Draco playfully shoved him and stuck out his tongue. A cough that sounded a rather lot like 'watch your language' was issued from Hermione as she shot them a glare.

While some people opened presents, some children got onto "Santa's" lap, whispering what they wanted in his ear, giggling at poor Ron and listing on for longer than anyone would anticipate. Rose was just picking up a new present, when Teddy shouted excitedly.

"It's the latest Firebolt model! Zero to two hundred in fifteen seconds! Its precision and balance is the best yet!"

"Please don't tell me it was you," Harry groaned, attempting to look Draco in the eyes. The Slytherin avoided his glance, but smirked guiltily. "You're going to turn him into you."

"Hey! I thought that was a good thing."

"Yeah, except when you were little, you were a self-righteous basta-" Upon seeing the glare from everyone, he amended. "Git."

"Uncle Draco! Uncle Draco!" Teddy launched himself at the poor blond, wrapping his arms around his hips, which was the highest he could reach. With a slight – could it be – blush spreading over his face, Draco reached and lifted him up into the air before pulling him against his chest into a hug.

"You'd make a good father," Hermione commented, grinning cheekily.

"Oh, sod off."

Other gifts seemed uneventful compared to that. Harry got a "Chosen One" bobble head from Hermione, and Draco got a giant poster of himself with the caption, "Most Eligible Bachelor". At last, Draco handed Harry a present, and attempted to ignore the attention he was receiving.

"Perhaps you could open it later?"

"Don't tell me it's anything inappropriate!" Harry sounded mortified.

"It isn't. It's just…cute."

"Oh, the horrors! Let me open it now." Slowly he unfolded the parchment. There was a note written in neatly written cursive.

I know Sirius meant a lot to you. You've mentioned the two way mirrors several times. I've caught you looking at the shards wistfully, almost as if you wish you could repair it. I know magic won't fix it, but maybe my present will be just as nice. No matter what I say otherwise, just know that I'll love you forever and always. Just don't tell anyone how much of a softie I truly am.

Yours,

Draco

With trembling fingers, and a rather determined I'm-not-going-to-cry expression plastered on his face, Harry opened the package. Neatly wrapped inside was a newly made set of two-way mirrors. They were Gryffindor colors, and upon seeing them, Harry gasped in shock, throwing his arms around Draco – his Draco.

"They're beautiful!"

"Oh, don't get emotional on me, please."

"They are rather sweet, Draco," Luna interjected.

"Who wants hot chocolate?" Draco successfully changed the subject, and rushed to the kitchen, the children following him in a mob. Soon, however, they became sleepy. People slowly began to leave, and Hermione and Ron were the last. It was already two thirty and Rose and Hugo had curled up asleep in a giant armchair by the fireplace. Ron carried them out, and with a hug and a final farewell, Draco and Harry were left alone in the house.

"Well, I guess I'll be off to bed soon," Harry mumbled, rubbing his eyes and starting to walk toward the bedroom.

"You can't have forgotten our promise, can you?" Draco asked, grabbing Harry's wrist and tugging him back so that their bodies pressed.

"Promise?"

"That we'd continue what we started."

"Maybe I'm not so tired after all." Both gave mischievous smirks at this and pulled closer together. "Happy Christmas, Draco."

"Very happy indeed." And so they did continue right from where they left off.


A/N: Tell me what you think! It's my first holiday fluff. I'm sorry 'bout all the extraneous pairings, but it was difficult to write the party without mentioning several others. I hope you liked it, but even if you didn't, put in your two cents worth. :D Basically, rate and review. Oh, and if you're following me due to 'Truth or Dare', I should have the next chapter up soon! Cheers, and happy holidays! I love you all!

~Luna