by Reiko Katsura


Rating: NC-17

Genres: Romance, Fluff, so little Angst you can hardly see it, and some kind of attempt of smut.

Summary: Draco Malfoy is not allowed puzzles of any kind. His boyfriend, Harry Potter, says so.

Challenge: Written for DracoHarry100's Christmas Challenge #2, which was to construct a single fic using the following 31 words: Cider, Nutcracker, Christmas Carols, Kings, Christmas Tree, Eggnog, Snow/Snowman, Icicle, Reindeer, Yule/Yuletide, Silent Night, Midnight Mass, Deck the Halls, Wreath, Gifts, Wrapping, Mistletoe, Nuts, Mulled wine, Holly, Ribbon, Stockings, Fruitcake, Mince Pies, Tinsel, Angels, Chestnuts, Jingle Bells, Saint Nick, Fairy, and Re-gifting.

A/N: Hello, everyone, and Happy Christmas! This here is a little gift to all of you =)It wasn't beta'd, though I did go through it before posting. I'm dead tired, though, so I probably missed a few things. So sorry in advance! If the typos get to you, feel free to send me a message or comment and I'll give this another run through (though, admittely, I don't know If I'll be able to, tomorrow .). Anyways! I hope you all enjoy the following silliness. Happy Holidays!


Harry Potter had learned, long ago, never to leave any form of game—be it word finding, cross word, video, picture, numerical, or jigsaw—in front of his lover, Draco, if he wished to speak to the man, or have sex, at any point of the foreseeable future. After Hermione had given Draco that 10,500 piece jigsaw three years ago for his birthday, and Draco had locked himself in his room (quite literally) for two entire weeks before finally coming out—they'd learned their lesson.

Draco's obsession to solving puzzles was almost frightening. Harry had nearly murdered his best friend, Ron, when he gave him that colorful block-thingy you moved around to form solid colors a month ago. Draco hadn't put it down for a week. Ron hadn't been able to use his wand hand for two.

It was a well known fact that Draco was simply not allowed to play any form of puzzle, lest the provider face Harry's wrath. It was also because of just this that Harry was utterly confused, upon coming home, at the sight of Draco hunched over a large sheet of white paper, which completely covered the face of their fairly wide sitting room table, with a furrowed brow.

He didn't need to know what was on the table to know that it was a puzzle. Draco could never sit still, or concentrate so hard, otherwise.

Harry groaned as he moved in, toeing off his boots and tossing his jacket on the coat rack by the door. "Who gave that to you, Draco? I'll kill them, I swear I will."

"Shh!" Draco hissed without looking up.

Harry rolled his eyes and fought the urge to groan. It had already started.

He walked across the room to where Draco was sitting, and plopped down on the couch beside him. Draco didn't so much as bat an eyelash at the sudden proximity. He also didn't turn around and give Harry his customary "welcome home" kiss, or ask him how his day was, or—by the growling noises Draco's stomach was making—bothered to eat.

"Eggnog….eggnog…eggnog…" Draco murmured thoughtfully, quickly scanning his grey eyes over the sheet of paper. Harry glanced at the puzzle—a word finder, he realized—and nearly slapped his hand over his face when he saw the number of words listed at the bottom.

"Merlin, Draco! How many bloody words are there?!"

"Five Hundred," Draco said, tonelessly, still searching.

"And how many have you found already?"


Harry's shoulders slumped and he leaned back into the couch with a sigh. Well. He supposed he'd be sleeping by himself for the night. And possibly tomorrow night if Draco allowed himself any sleep.

It was horrible of him, but Harry hoped Draco wouldn't.

"Who gave it to you?" He tried to hide the frustration in his voice, but Draco must have caught on to it because his lips pursed and his shoulders tightened and he looked about ready to face Voldemort at any moment to keep his secrets safe.

"Was it the same person who gave you those booklets of Sudoku last week?" Harry changed directions.

Draco faltered for only moment before finally nodded. He probably figured Harry would be able to get nothing out of that small bit of information. Sadly, he was right.

Harry reached out for the puzzle, intending to pull it away, and started, "Why don't you put that down so we could—"

Draco growled at him—growled at him—and turned a glare at Harry. "Touch it and die, Potter," he threatened, then turned back to the game.

Harry blinked at him. "…Right. Have you even eaten today, Draco?"


"You do realize that it's well past dinner-time, don't you?"

"You do realize that you're still talking, don't you?"

Harry growled and stood up. "Fine. Starve for all I care. You'd better not come whining to me about how hungry you are later on, then."

Draco didn't bother to respond.

With a huff Harry stomped off, making sure to pound his feet against the floor as loud as he could. When he reached the door leading to the dining room, Draco suddenly shouted "Found it!", causing Harry to startle badly and bang his foot on the wooden frame.

He hopped into the kitchen, bouncing on one foot, and cursed the Gods for making him fall in love with an idiot.

Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la la la la la la, 'tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la la la la la

Harry stared at the television screen with disinterest. He was crumpled on a sofa he'd conjured from a pillow, legs folded and tucked underneath him, munching on a load of chocolate frogs that Ron had given him earlier that day. Every channel he turned to was viewing something about the upcoming holiday. With a sigh—because he really wasn't in the mood for any form of cheer, let alone the Holiday—he pointed his wand at the telly and switched the channel.

--Rudolph, the red nosed reindeer, had a very shiny nose, and if you ever saw him, you would even say it glowed—


--A newborn king to see, ba rum ba bum bum, our finest gift we bring, ba rum pum pum pum—


--Chestnuts roasting, on an open fire. Jackfrost nipping at your nose. Yuletide cares being sung by a choir, and folks being dressed up like Eskimos—


-- Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way; oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh—

"Bleeding," Harry cursed, and swished the telly off. He sat up from the sofa, stretched, and glanced at his watch. It was already nearing midnight and Draco still hadn't come up for bed.

He shot another glance towards the dark window, only partly covered by thin transparent blue curtains, and almost smiled. It was snowing, and the flecks of white falling from the sky seemed to enhance the silent night. If Draco hadn't been occupied, Harry would have dragged him outside for a snowball fight—muggle style—as he had done last year. As it was, Harry doubted he would be able to come up for bed, let alone actually leave the house to play in the snow.

Feeling grumpier, Harry stretched the sore muscles in his legs and headed out of their bedroom and into the hall. When he entered the living room, he scowled at the sight of his partner sitting cross-legged on the couch, munching on the fruitcake flavored scones his friend Hermione had bought for him.

"What are you still doing down here, Draco?" Harry asked, irritated.

"Searching for 'nutcracker'." Draco said absently.

Harry shot him an annoyed, albeit unnoticed, look. "It's already eleven o'clock. When are you coming up for bed?"

Draco didn't answer, though Harry hadn't really expected to receive one in the first place. He sighed and took a moment to glance around the room. It had been Draco, so eager for the Holidays, who'd decided to decorate their flat for Christmas. In the corner by the furnace was a Christmas Tree; tall and fat, brushing the ceiling with the ornamental angels they'd both picked out whilst shopping for proper Christmas wrapping. The walls were decorated with sashes of red, silver ribbons, vibrant green wreathes and white bows. Mistletoe hovered the corners of the ceiling, flecks of red and pink bubbling their middles. Draco had been adamant about getting Christmas stockings, filling them, and spelling them just to the side of the chimney. Iridescent tinsel and fluff poured from the hems, running down the red and green fabrics icicles.

Harry could admit that, in the single day he'd done this, Draco did an excellent job with turning their usually humble abode into something magnificent.

Returning his attention to Draco, Harry whined, "Love, tomorrow is Christmas. Don't you want to go to sleep together?"

Draco grunted and moved the hand holding his quill across the paper. "As soon as I'm done, Harry."

"But Draco—"

"Shh, Harry; I'm searching for the word 'Fairy'. I'll come to bed later, alright?"

Harry glared at him. "Fine, Draco, solve your stupid little puzzle! Don't come to bed! In fact, why don't you play right through Christmas, too? Miss out on all the presents and Cider and Chocolate coated Nuts! While we're all out at Midnight Mass, singing Christmas Carols and eating Mrs. Weasley's homemade Mince Pies, I hope you're here, alone, and starving to death!" Harry turned around and stomped out of the living room, shoulders tight and heart throbbing in his chest. Draco just made him so mad! He'd been talking nonstop about Holiday Cheer for the past month, going on and on about how wonderful this Christmas would be, getting Harry happy for the Holidays and eager to spend it with him, and he wouldn't even be a part of it! Well, it was all bloody well fine! He'd just re-gift Draco's presents and give them to Ron! Draco would undoubtedly notice him then!

Harry stormed into their bedroom and slammed the door shut. He moved towards the bed, and tore into it and under the covers. With a frustrated sigh, he shut his eyes and prayed for sleep to come.

I won't make a list and send it, to the North Pole for Saint Nick, I won't even stay awake to, hear those magic reindeer click—

There was light—annoyingly bright—shining on his face. Harry groaned as he woke, his body feeling far heavier than it had when he first came to bed. He shook his head and groaned again, and wondered if he'd left the telly on.

—I won't ask for much this Christmas, I won't even wish for snow, I'm just gonna keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe—

"Bloody hell, shut that thing off!" Harry snapped to no one in particular, and made to turn to his side. The weight, which he realized was targeted toward the lower half of his body, prevented him from doing so. Harry opened his eyes blearily, blinking back early morning tears, and lifted his head a little to peer down and see what was going on.

The sight he saw made him yelp and shoot up.

"What are you doing, Draco!" Harry demanded, confused.

Draco was lying—naked, by the look of it—on top of Harry's legs, head propped up on his elbows and peering at Harry intently. He said nothing, and only smiled.

"Draco—," Harry started again, but stopped when he realized something else naked that really wasn't supposed to be. He stared at his bare legs and cock, white from the cool and stiff from the time, and back up at Draco who'd begun to smirk.

"G' Morning, Harry," Draco breathed, and the puffs of air that fell over Harry's cock made Harry shiver.

"Draco, what—,"

"Shh," Draco murmured, and moved his hands from underneath his chin to rest at Harry's sides. "Don't talk."

"But—!" Harry started to argue, but then Draco did that breathing thing again, and he ended up moaning, instead.

"What was that?" Draco said, and the breaths that were ghosting over Harry's morning erection were unbearable.

"Bloody hell, would you just suck me already!" Harry cried as Draco's lips descended on his prick, engulfing him completely in heat and moisture and torturous tightness.

"Fuck, don't stop," Harry moaned. One of Draco's hands moved in between his legs to fondle his balls, tugging and squeezing the wrinkled sacks. The other hand moved up and down the base of his cock, circling it and sliding, continuously altering between pressure and speed.

Somewhere, at the very back of Harry's mind, he vaguely remembered that he were supposed to have been very upset at Draco. That recollection, however, seemed to fade farther and father as Draco continued sucking and stroking and doing marvelously things with his mouth.

"Like that, do you, Harry?" Draco said from below, then ran his tongue over Harry's leaking slit.

Harry whimpered, because really, Draco was too fucking amazing at that kind of thing.

He kissed the head—two times, three times—then scraped the tiny dent lightly with his front teeth. Harry nearly shouted out.

"Say you forgive me," Draco whispered, suddenly.

That jolted Harry long enough to clear his mind from the pleasurable haze. At least a little bit.

"What?" Harry panted, and tried to concentrate. It was hard to do, however, with Draco's hands juggling his balls and fisting his cock and his mouth so agonizingly close

"For acting like a prat," Draco continued, and when Harry peered down, he noticed that his face was serious. "For ignoring you when you needed me, for paying more attention to a bloody puzzle than you on Christmas eve. For always locking myself away whenever I get a new game to play. For hurting you."

"Draco—" Harry started, eyes wide. Was Draco really apologizing to him in the middle of giving head? He searched Draco's face for something that gave him away—hints of a smirk, hooded eyes—because really, at what better time to manipulate Harry than when he was only minutes, or had been at least, away from coming? But Draco appeared to be genuine, and Harry really couldn't stay made at his lover for too long (especially not when he was in the middle of sucking his cock like a blood flavored lollipop).

"You're really sorry?" he asked, instead of demanding Draco to return to the task at hand. "And promise not to lock yourself away every time you get a new puzzle?"

"I promise," Draco said, and nodded his head to emphasize the point.

Harry smiled at him, gratefully. "Thanks, Draco, it really means a lot that you— /ioh/i!"

And Harry didn't even feel a little bit offended at being cut off, not really, because Draco's tongue had started to do that swirling thing again, and he must have spit on Harry's cock because the movements of his palm were far smoother and wetter. The heat in Harry's stomach was pooling, building gradually and spreading all over. Draco's movements began to quicken, to deepen, and eventually it seemed as if the heat had moved up to his head. He was aware of him speaking, though he couldn't exactly tell what he was speaking of, but was quite sure it was something along the lines of "Draco" and "I fucking love you" and "suck me harder". Harry's legs were quivering and the hand, the one that had been rubbing his tightening sacs, were petting circles over his thighs, brushing over the soft hairs and scraping its nails over his dry skin.

Draco was swallowing him in further, to the point that Harry was sure the head of his cock was touching the back of his throat, and it took all he had to not thrust forward and fuck Draco's mouth and choke him to death.

Harry's balls pulled up, and his cock tightened, and his heart stopped, and the next thing he knew he was shooting out in Draco's mouth, feeling so much pleasure he thought he would die, and was currently floating somewhere on Mars.

Eventually, when Harry's world returned to color and his eyes returned from heaven and his heart was no longer threatening to burst out of his chest, he fell flat onto the bed underneath him and gestured with his tingling hands for Draco to move upward. He did, and Harry pulled Draco toward him and gave him a slow, lazy kiss. He moaned a little when Draco's tongue ran over his own, and he tasted a somewhat familiar taste of himself.

"That was bloody excellent," Harry murmured, and buried his head in Draco's shoulder.

Draco chuckled. "Just wanted to apologize. And wish you a Merry Christmas."

Harry paused to let those words sink in, then smiled. So it was already Christmas, then.

"Well, I forgive you. And Merry Christmas to you, too." He added.

They slipped into a comfortable silence, snuggling into each other and placing soft kisses at random places.

"You ready to start opening presents, Draco?"

Harry felt, more than saw, Draco's head eagerly nod.

He nodded, as well, though Draco couldn't see it, and moved the both of them into a sitting position. Draco had just swung his legs over the bed when Harry asked, "Hey, did you finish that word-puzzle you were working on?"

Draco froze, and turned to Harry slowly. It was then that Harry noticed the dark circles under his eyes, which were nearly as read as a Mexican Poinsettia.

Draco turned around again and walked smoothly towards the door. "I did, actually," he said, then left quickly.

Harry shook his head and sighed. Really, he shouldn't have been surprised.

With a small smile—because no matter what he said, he'd always find Draco's actions to be, while at times infuriating, overall simply adorable— and a newfound eagerness, Harry stood from the bed, slipped on a robe, and followed his lover out.

It's going to be a great Christmas, Harry figured as he closed their bedroom door behind him. I can feel it.

As long as Draco was with him.

EXTRA: Draco's Secret:
WC:510 words, Rating:PG, Characters:Draco,???

Draco apparated into a narrow alley between two abandoned warehouses. He checked his watch, which read 6:00 p.m., and nodded to himself; he was on time. He fixed the scarf that was wrapped around his face, lowered his hood, and waited.

Almost five minutes later, a pop sounded from somewhere near him, and he turned to face the approaching person. Sure enough, robed in a heavy dirt-brown robe, and face covered completely by material and spectacles, came the person he was supposed to meet.

"Did you bring it?" Draco asked quietly as the man walked closer toward him, pausing every so often to glance around and make sure they were truly alone.

The man nodded, slowly, and stopped when he and Draco were only three feet apart.

"Well?" Draco asked eagerly. His hands began to tremble in anticipation so he shoved them in his pockets. "Did you bring it?"

The man nodded again, and pulled out his wand. He took a small, palm-sized package from the sash around his shoulder, held it out, and cast the spell to enlarge minimized objects. A moment later, a box the size of his head was in its place.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

"What do you have?"

The man glanced around again—and Draco did the same, just to be sure—and began to speak quickly. "Two booklets of Sudoku and two word puzzles, a 300-piece jigsaw puzzle, a Rubik's cube, and clippings of crossword puzzles taken from The Quibbler."

Draco wrinkled his nose and frowned. "Is that all? You couldn't get your hands on anything bigger? Longer?"

The man shook his head. "I'm sorry, Draco, but I just couldn't. I think Potter's been onto me. He's been hanging around my office way too often for my personal comfort. After that five-hundred word Christmas-themed word-puzzle I gave you, he's really been out for blood. Let him calm down a little before I give you another big one."

Draco nodded, reluctantly. He understood his friend's problem, he did. It was the reason, after all, that the both of them never met at the same place more than three times, and chose to cover their appearances completely.

"Fine. But next time, I want something big, alright?"

The man nodded.

Draco pulled his scarf lower down his face, so that the top only reached his chin, and smiled. "These will keep me occupied for a while, at least. Thanks, Blai—!"

"Shh!" Blaise rushed over and clamped his dark hand over Draco's mouth. He looked around wildly, as if expecting a horde of Aurors—or worse, Harry Potter—to start surrounding them. "Don't say my name aloud!"

Draco rolled his eyes, but nevertheless nodded.

Looking almost queasy, Blaise nodded to Draco once, reminded him not to seek him out or talk to him for another few days at least, then apparated out, leaving the brown box of goodies in Draco's hands.

Draco skimmed the area once more, put his scarf back in place, shrunk the box and stuffed it in his pocket, then followed suit.

A/N: I told myself I wasn't going to write any extra fics, since I'm so swamped at the moment and really, I'm just not the type to produce loads of fics at a time (I'm in awe of those who can!). I couldn't let the Holidays pass without writing something Christmas-y, however. So I figured, let me find a small Christmas Challenge I can work with and have something, on Christmas Day, to gift you guys with. It's nothing special, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways! Review, please, and tell me what you think!

And have a happy, wonderful, fantastic Christmas!

~Reiko Katsura