Warning: naughty words, time skips, OOC Draco ( maybe? I'unno ), cheesy, suggestive themes, very long one-shot proposal!
Title: Ten Christmases Later
.oO - nine years old - Oo.
Aside from getting Dudley's old clothes, Harry didn't get any gifts for Christmas. This was why he dreaded this time of the year ; he was sick and tired of watching his cousin open huge and expensive presents while he just sat there with a bunch of over worn clothes to his side. Yes, Harry was jealous, but he would never admit that out loud to Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, or Dudley. They might stop giving him anything all together, and Harry needed the big clothes to keep in warm during the winter.
Harry sighed as he seated himself down near the tree that Christmas morning. Dudley was already tearing away the wrapping to his third gift. Harry watched with mild interest as his cousin was presented with a Nintendo. He rolled his eyes when Dudley squealed with delight and shouted a thanks to his parents. Harry didn't even bother looking through the stack of presents to find that one box filled with Dudley's old clothes. He figured that, once Dudley was done opening his gifts, that he would pinpoint his 'present' easily. Knowing that he would be sitting here for more than thirty minutes, Harry leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes.
He truly hated getting up before eight o'clock, and since it was Christmas morning, he lacked one hour of sleep. For a bit, Harry's eyes remained closed. He was trying to imagine a much better Christmas with a loving family, but these thoughts were immediately trashed the moment his eyes popped open to the sound of Dudley yelling 'yes!'. Not helping his curiosity, Harry peered over at what the racket was about. Dudley just got a computer. Fantastic.
No longer interested, Harry closed his eyes again. This time, his eyelids flew open within seconds. Someone had rang their doorbell. From across the small living room, he heard his uncle ask who the ruddy hell was at the door. After that was Aunt Petunia's request for Harry to go answer the door. As always, he reluctantly stood up and made his way towards the entrance.
On the way to the door, Harry attempted to tame his wild hair. When realizing that it wasn't going to flatten, he simply huffed and opened the door.
"Merry Christmas," greeted a white-blond boy.
Harry blinked, then peered up at the motherly figure. It was their neighbors that had recently moved in.
"Who is it, Harry?" called Aunt Petunia's voice from the living room.
Hesitantly, Harry glanced away from the pair and gazed back at the living room. "It's the Malfoys!" After his answer, there was a scuffle. Harry watched as his aunt made her way over from the living room.
"Is there a problem?" Aunt Petunia asked hastily.
Mrs. Malfoy shook her head. "We thought we would just come over and wish our neighbors a Merry Christmas and give gifts to you, your husband, Harry and Dudley." With a smile, the woman handed Aunt Petunia two medium sized present. Harry, on the other hand, accepted his gift from the son, who beamed at him warmly.
"Oh, thank you. We have your gift too! Hold on, let me go get it. Come inside. No use standing in the cold."
Harry generally hated when his aunt acted nice around other people and not around him, but it had its benefits. It was times like this that Harry didn't need to fetch anything or get yelled at.
Gradually content with this, Harry closed the door after the Malfoys stepped into the house. He quietly followed them to the living room where they were greeted by an equally nice Uncle Vernon and a very grabby Dudley, who snatched the gifts from Aunt Petunia's hands and started tearing the wrapper off.
Harry seated himself down in his previous spot and watched as the young son made communications with Dudley. This actually made him rather sad ; he had thought that, when the Malfoy family moved in, he would make a new friend. But of course, he had forgotten for the moment that Dudley was there too. And of course, Dudley would snag all the attention.
Tearing his gaze from them, Harry peered down at the present in his hands. Suddenly eager, Harry began to tear away the wrapping. Once the object was revealed, Harry smiled. It was a coloring book with four crayons attached. Of all the Christmas presents he had gotten, this was probably the first one that was brand new.
"I thought that maybe we can color together."
Smile disappearing, Harry gazed up at the white-blond male. He blinked and said nothing in response. After all, Dudley could have sent him over to do something wicked.
The boy smiled and extended a hand. "I'm Draco Malfoy. We're the same age. I think we should be friends."
That was the first time Harry heard that line. Usually, it was Dudley that makes the friends, but looking over at his plump cousin now, Dudley was busy trying to make something good out of the picture book that he got. Harry's gaze returned to Draco. And with a smile, he accepted the hand.
From that moment onward, a beautiful friendship bloomed between them.
.oO - ten years old - Oo.
"Merry Christmas, Draco, Mrs. Malfoy!" Harry greeted with an enthusiastic smile. The same heartfelt greeting was returned to him with smiles reflecting the happiness.
"Here you go, Draco. And we weren't sure what you liked, Mrs. Malfoy, so we just picked something that we hope you like." Shyly, he handed over the neatly wrapped gift to their respective person.
"How sweet, Harry! We also have something for you. Hold on, I'll go get it." With that, Mrs. Malfoy hurried out of sight, leaving Harry standing there with Draco.
"Should I open it now?" the white-blond male questioned, looking at present. Harry nodded quickly, and with a grin, Draco did. "It's a . . . um, scarf. Thanks, Harry."
Harry's brows furrowed. "You don't like it?"
Draco shook his head quickly and beamed. "No, no! I like it! Thanks, Harry!" After Harry felt the arms embracing him in a hug, he immediately grinned.
.oO - eleven years old - Oo.
Harry groaned when he got up Christmas morning. He knew that he wasn't going to have the brightest Christmas since the Malfoys were going away for a vacation. That meant no Draco, which meant no gift givings to each other. Looking over at where he wrapped Draco's present, Harry frowned. Maybe he could give it to the other for a New Year gift or something.
Sighing, Harry climbed out of bed and stumbled his way to the living room where Dudley was already opening presents. He sat down in the same spot as previous years and rubbed his eyes. The stack of presents for Dudley seem to be getting bigger and bigger by each passing year. Not that that was any surprise ; Dudley had requested a lot as the years went on and more inventions were known.
Harry puffed his cheeks and began to entertain himself by tracing shapes over and over again on the carpet. He stopped this when he heard his aunt approaching.
"What are you doing? Go get the mail!"
Harry knew that she was talking to him ; she would never work Dudley like that. Still reluctant, the eleven-year old male stood up and hobbled over to the door to collect the mail. He didn't even bother looking through the letters, but since the one addressed to him was on top, Harry couldn't help but stop in his step and look at it.
That was odd. No one sent him letters. And this one didn't even have who it was from. Curious, Harry placed the other letters on the table and opened the one addressed to him. Inside was a Christmas card. Having a general idea on who sent it, Harry opened the card. Sure enough, it was from Draco, wishing him a Merry Christmas with an apology that he couldn't send the gift along.
"What's taking you so long, boy?"
Tearing his sights from the card, Harry quickly gathered the other other letters and hurried over to give them to Aunt Petunia. When she took them though, she surveyed him. "What are you hiding?" How did his aunt know these things?
"Uh . . ."
"Show me what's behind your back."
Saved by the doorbell! Ignoring Aunt Petunia, Harry hurried to the door and opened it. "Harry!" came a girl's voice.
"Hermione! Ron! You didn't need to visit me—"
"Oh, our parents didn't mind!"
Maybe this Christmas wasn't going to be too bad.
.oO - twelve years old - Oo.
"Come on, Harry!" Hermione ushered, pulling on his arm while gesturing wildly at the Weasley's car that contained many redheads that were his friends as well.
"Wait. Can I ask Draco to come along?"
At the mention of the name, Hermione frowned slightly. "He's not very nice, Harry," she said pointedly. To this, Harry's brows furrowed as well. "He's my friend, Hermione."
She sighed. "I'll ask Mrs. Weasley." Hurrying off, she went to ask. Harry watched as his bushy-haired best friend communicated with the cheerful parents that he wished he had. He adored Mr. and Mrs. Weasley ; even though they weren't as rich, they were extremely friendly, unlike the Dursleys. But at least he had permission to go places thanks to the convincing of Mrs. Weasley.
Hermione soon returned with a 'yes'. Beaming, Harry quickly made his way to the neighboring house. He knocked a few times before Mrs. Malfoy answered. "Hello, Harry. Merry Christmas. Would you like me to call Draco?"
Harry nodded. "Merry Christmas to you as well, Mrs. Malfoy, and yes, if it's not too much trouble."
"Oh, not at all." She smiled at him before calling for her soon.
Within moments, Draco appeared, looking bright when he saw him. "Hey, Harry—" His eyes then switched to the space beside Harry. "—why's Granger here?"
"We're wondering if you want to join us and the Weasleys at the skating ring. It'll be fun!"
The smile faded away from the white-blond's face. "I'm busy."
Harry's spirits fell. "Oh . . . okay. Um, here's your present, anyways." Handing the gift over and getting nothing but a murmured 'thanks', Harry walked to the Weasley's vehicle.
.oO - thirteen years old - Oo.
"You're not going to ask that git to come along, are you?" Ron questioned as Harry closed the door to his uncle's house.
Harry glanced over at the Malfoy's house, then shook his head. "Nah . . . Draco doesn't really go to these things."
Hermione, standing on the other side of Harry, huffed. "He doesn't like that you're hanging out with us."
"But you guys are my friends," Harry grumbled as they made their way towards the Weasley's car.
"Yeah," Ron agreed.
Harry said nothing after that, he just felt a pool of guilt revolve in his stomach. This was the first year in four years that he hadn't given a gift or wished Draco a Merry Christmas. And from the looks of it, Draco wasn't going to do that either. After all, ever since Draco learned that Harry hung out with Ron and Hermione two years ago, he started becoming distant.
Waving off the emotional thoughts, Harry climbed into the van and greeted the many Weasleys.
.oO - fourteen years old - Oo.
Harry drew out a shaky breath as he raised his hand to knock at the Malfoy's door. Though, he only knocked twice before he lost his nerve and began to reconsider. He and Draco weren't on the brightest terms after last Christmas. Harry admitted it was a mistake on his part ; Draco just scowled and closed the door in his face. Fearing that this would happen again, Harry turned, but before he could run off, the door opened.
"What do you want, Harry?"
Harry cringed at the cold voice, but nonetheless, he turned back around. "Uh . . . Merry Christmas? I-I want make up from last year." Feeling embarrassed and overwhelmed, Harry held out the wrapped gift.
Green eyes met with gray ones. Draco narrowed his eyes. "Where's Granger and Weasley?"
"Hermione's on a vacation to France and the Weasley's are in Egypt for the break."
Harry really wanted to say a farewell and leave, since apparently, he didn't feel the warm welcome anymore. Draco wasn't even accepting his gift. His sights flickered off from the taller boy. Draco had really changed throughout the years. The first time they met, Harry remembered that they were the same height. Draco sprouted in height and got more handsome.
His gaze returned to the gray orbs. Draco was glaring him. With a new found fear, Harry placed the gift down and fled.
Needless to say, that wasn't the brightest Christmas Harry had.
.oO - fifteen years old - Oo.
Harry didn't even want to go near the Malfoy's house, especially since Draco Malfoy was there. Over the year, Draco teamed up with Dudley and began taunting him. So when Aunt Petunia ordered him to walk over and give the Malfoys a fruit cake, Harry was very reluctant.
Now, Harry stood at the door with much dislike for his position. He rang the doorbell and waited. Sure enough, it had to be Draco who answer.
"What?" the white-blond male bit out.
Ouch. That was cold. But, unlike before, Harry didn't put the object down and run, instead, he stood his place. "Aunt Petunia bought you a fruitcake." He shoved the bakery item into the other's hands. "Merry fucking Christmas, Malfoy," he hissed. Trying to calm his pounding heart, Harry turned and began making his way back to the house. He, after all, had better things to do, like get ready for the Christmas party at the Weasley's house.
"Hold it, Potter."
Harry gritted his teeth and paused in his place.
Harry turned around and came faced with the young Malfoy. Nonetheless, he frowned. "What?"
"Are you dating Weaslette?"
His eyes narrowed on the taller figure. "Why would you care?"
Draco scowled. "Forget that I asked, then." With that, he turned and headed back into the house.
.oO - sixteen years old - Oo.
"What was that?"
"No," Harry repeated.
Aunt Petunia's eyes flashed with anger. "You dare say 'no' to me, boy?" she screeched.
Harry's face remained emotionless. "Yes." The next thing Harry knew was that his hair was being grabbed.
"You listen to me, boy. Your uncle and I raised you to this age. You will not disrespect us. Now go give this to the Malfoys. They were kind enough to get Dudley something." She tugged on his hair once more.
"Alright, alright!" Harry replied, trying desperately to remove his locks from the woman's hands. Finally, she let go. In return, he received a small gift that was probably a necklace or something. "And fix that awful hair," Aunt Petunia said as he made his way out of the house.
Harry rubbed his head. He hated when she did that ; it always seemed as if the hair was going to be ripped right off his head, but it never happened. Maybe if it did, he would have an excuse not to go over to the Malfoy's. But since it did not, Harry presented himself at the door of said house.
Placing the present down, Harry rang the doorbell and hurried back to the house just in case Draco answered the door.
When Harry returned to the Dursley's house, he was greeted with the fact that the three were going to some sort of company Christmas party. Having no problem with this, Harry closed and locked the door after they left.
With the house to himself, Harry wondered what he could do until noon, which was when Hermione was supposed to pick him and Ron up to go to a block party in her neighborhood. He considered looking through Dudley's gifts and seeing what he got for Christmas this time, but decided against that idea since it wasn't really appealing. With a huff, Harry raided the fridge, but before he could grab anything, the doorbell rang.
"She's early," Harry muttered to himself as he scrambled to open the door.
It wasn't Hermione.
It wasn't even the Dursleys.
Instead, it was Draco holding Aunt Petunia's gift in his hands.
Harry blinked at said present before turning his look to the white-blond male. "Is there a problem?"
"Yes," drawled the other as he shoved the gift back into Harry hands. "Who is this for?"
Harry watched as the other stepped into the house and closed the door behind him. He frowned. Did he invite Draco in? No. He didn't. And Draco was leering kinda close. Did he allow him in his personal space? No, he didn't.
Snapping back into reality, Harry stumbled a few steps back for his own space. "It's for your parents," he answered, and then added, "of course." He handed the gift back, but Draco didn't accept it.
"It's been touched by you," came the familiar sneer.
Harry stared. "You're serious? God, Malfoy. Just taking the gift and get out of the house. I didn't welcome you in here."
Draco merely quirked a brow before making his way through the house. With a soft scowl, Harry followed the male. Somehow, they ended up in Harry's small room.
"Get out, Malfoy," Harry gritted out as he watched the other examine the trophies he won from soccer tournaments. He didn't seem to listen since he made his way to Harry's bed and sat down.
Frowning, Harry made his way over. "What do you want?"
Draco peered up at him, which made Harry's heart flutter for an unknown reason. "You didn't get me a gift."
"You didn't either."
The pair fell silent once more. Harry was eying the white-blond figure closely. Draco, on the other hand, was looking around the room. At the moment, Harry couldn't help but admire the young Malfoy. Draco had grown into an angelic figure with his hair as white-blond as it could get. His facial structure was perfect. Harry wished that he appeared as lovely as this some times, but according to Ginny, he was attractive enough. If that was the case, then why didn't he have a girlfriend? Why does he, as the guy, always have to make the move?
For another thought, why wasn't Draco flaunting who he was dating? Was he even dating? Surely someone like him would have girls drooling at his feet.
"Do you know what I want for Christmas?"
Jerking from his thoughts, Harry tuned back into the current moment. "What?"
Draco patted the space next to him on the bed. Suspicious, Harry sat down, but a few spaces away.
"I want a ferret, but mother despises pets of any sort." Why the hell was Draco suddenly telling him this stuff?
"I want to be myself for a day and have everyone accept me for who I am instead of my rank and looks." So did Harry, because then, everyone would see how much of an arsehole the other was.
"I also want a piano. It's a beautiful instrument, and I want to learn how to play it." Harry loved piano music.
"I want father to show my mother and me that he cares." Harry wished that the Dursleys would care more. Sometimes.
"I want Pansy to get off my back. I made it clear that I don't like her. Many times." The pug-faced girl? Harry didn't like her either.
"And . . ." Harry felt himself being gently pushed into the mattress. With his heart racing and his mind reeling, he looked up at Draco.
"I want you." That wasn't expected.
Harry felt a blush creeping up on his cheeks when the other leaned close. He couldn't help but meet the gray eyes.
"You have no idea how much I want you, Harry," Draco whispered.
Even though Harry liked how close Draco was to him, he gently pushed against the shoulders. "I know you're horny, Draco," he said slowly, "so you should go wank or something." He gave another push on the shoulders. Draco didn't budge.
"I want you for this Christmas, Harry."
"Draco," Harry began uneasily, "I've seen Dudley's porn. Your pick up lines don't work. Go wank—"
"I don't wank."
"Stop it, Malfoy. You're scaring me."
"Malfoy, again? It was Draco a few seconds ago."
"Get off me!"
Harry glared at the other. "Are you drunk?"
"No, you idiot."
"Get off, then."
With a scowl, Harry pushed against the shoulders roughly. With the small space and second given, he quickly escaped from underneath the arms and fled out of his room. Footsteps sounded behind him. His heart now pounding against his chest, Harry scrambled over to the phone, but was caught around the waist with both of his hands gripped behind him before he could reach his destination.
"Draco, please let me go."
"Not until you hear me out."
Harry exhaled slowly and closed his eyes briefly. "Okay. Tell me."
And tell him, Draco did. "I always preferred you over Dudley, ever since when we were nine. When you became friends with Granger and Weasley, I became jealous. We were getting distant, and I thought, by joining Dudley's gang, that I could get closer to you that way. It didn't really work, so I quit the group. Now, I'm here."
Right. That was all completely believable. Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Alright. I heard you. Now, will you let me go?"
"I know you want me, Harry. Everyone does, but I'm only attracted to you."
This was definitely well rehearsed, and Harry was definitely not going to fall for it. He squirmed against the arms. "Stop it, Draco. This isn't funny."
Surprisingly, Draco let go. Immediately upon release, Harry went over and grabbed the phone before turning back. "Get out of the house before I call the police."
"Harry . . ."
"Why don't you understand?"
Harry's grip tightened on the phone. "Understand what? That you're only saying this to get in my pants so you can play me like you've played other people?"
"I'm not trying to get into your pants or play you!" Draco hissed back. "I just dated those people because I thought that I could get you jealous—"
"You're a player."
"I didn't do anything with them except take them out on one date, hold their hand . . . and maybe made out with a few when I thought you were watching."
Harry wrinkled his nose. "Forget it, Malfoy. I'm not—"
"I've seen the way you look at me, Harry." Draco leered close once more. "I know that you want me as bad as I want you."
"No. I don't want people, Malfoy. I'm not a player, like you."
"I like you, Harry. A lot. Does . . . does that convince you?"
Harry vaguely thought for a moment that he was dreaming, because Draco liking him in that fashion was definitely some sort of cheesy dream.
"No." He shoved the other back. "Get away from me."
Draco's face twisted into a scowl. "Why can't you accept the fact that I fancy you? Do you need that much reassurance? It's bloody annoying."
"You're bloody annoying," Harry gritted out. "I'm not going to repeat myself, Malfoy. I'll call—"
"God, Harry. Your bitchy mode is a turn off. Did you know that?"
"Oh, so you were horny."
"What? No! I'm just saying . . . why the hell am I even attracted to you?" Draco sneered. "There are plenty of other more attractive guys than you."
That hurt. Harry cringed when his heart clenched. Maybe having a one-night stand wouldn't hurt— no. No. That would hurt him more.
"Well, why don't you pine after them?" Harry asked with a sarcastic tone.
"Because I happen to fancy someone else who won't accept it for a fact," he hissed.
"Move. On. That shouldn't be hard for you, right? You move onto someone else every week."
"Dammit, Harry. I love you, alright? Does that mean anything to you?"
Harry's eyes narrowed upon the other figure. In truth, yes, it did mean something. It meant a lot to him. Draco's love was something that Harry wanted but never thought he would get, because who would have thought that the great Draco Malfoy was a poof? Obviously not him.
At this moment, Harry desperately wanted to say yes, but the way that Draco was acting? It was cliché— like most angst stories online that he read when he was bored. And if it went along the story, he would either have to accept the confession now, or say no and let Draco go off crying or something.
Because a crying Draco would actually be amusing to see . . . That was really evil, Harry. Yes, it was.
Draco stumbled a few steps back, his brows knitting towards each other. "Fine. Believe what you want, then." And he turned to leave.
Harry knew it was very, very stupid, but he couldn't help but call out. "Wait! Malfoy, you . . . you forgot your gift."
Draco didn't even bother to look back. "They won't like whatever your aunt wrapped up."
Harry fell silent for a bit as he watched the other reach the door. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering if he should stop Draco or not. And he hated himself for the decision he made—
"Draco! Hold . . . hold on." Harry put the phone down and scrambled over to the door. When he was within talking distance of the other, he halted. "I . . ." What a great moment for his brain to stop working. Returning to his silence, Harry merely glanced away, trying desperately to create something to say— like an apology.
"It's alright. I understand. You love someone who doesn't love you back. That's how the world turns." With that, Draco opened the door and stepped outside.
Pathetically, he followed the other to the Malfoy's entrance door.
"Why are you following me, Potter?"
"It's Potter now? It was Harry seconds ago."
Harry's heart tempo increased when Draco turned around and gave him a look. For seconds, their gazes lingered on each other, and then Harry broke into a grin. His grin seemed to seat off Draco's smile.
"You're a bastard," Draco said, and right after those words, his smile dropped.
Harry's grin quickly dissolved from his face once more. He thought a simple smile would solve everything— but apparently, Draco was faking it. Damn him.
"You think I'm playing you? You're toying with me, Harry. You said if I don't get out, you would call the police. Now, you're following me. What do you want?"
"To apologize," Harry said firmly.
Draco gave him a look. "For what? Not being able to return my feelings? Don't worry about it. I'll move on in a week, just like you said."
Harry felt a chill run down his spine at the cold words.
"I'll just move on from the feelings that I had for the last two years. I'll just pretend that I never fancied you for two years. That's completely fine, Harry."
Harry really hated Draco's sarcasm. He seriously did.
"Gone mute again, Potter?"
And he hated how Draco was switching from his first to his last name.
"Just tell me whether you fancy me or not. Don't bring up shit like I'm going to play you. Just answer yes or no."
Yes. Harry chewed on his bottom lip and gazed down, trying to avoid the eyes.
"I'll be fine, Harry, if you tell me no. I can move on. I'll probably look back on this day when I'm married and laugh at how stupid I was."
Now, Draco was making him feel guilty.
"Harry . . ."
Harry felt his face been cupped. His gaze immediately returned to the other.
"You were what I wanted for the last two Christmases. You are what I want for this Christmas."
His thumb ran over Harry's bottom lip.
"I'm not lying to you, Harry. I just want to know if I should stop pining after you or not."
Harry became hesitant again.
Draco sighed and removed his hands. "Give me a fucking answer, Harry. I'd like to get out of the cold."
The curse made Harry snap back from his thoughts. He frowned. "Give me time to think, Draco."
"We've been standing out here for five minutes. You're doing it on purpose, aren't you?"
Harry fell back onto the snow, surprised that Draco had shoved him.
"You're trying to play with my emotions. I know you hate me, Harry, but fuck, can't you just give me an answer so we can both move on from this point?"
Harry could hear the anger rising in the other's voice, and even though he hadn't been around the other much, he knew that an angry Malfoy was never a good one. His eyes locked on the stormy gray ones. From the eyes alone, Harry could tell that the storm was stirring up into a massive thunderstorm. He dropped his gaze immediately after realizing that.
He knew he should answer, since that seemed to be the best decision to make at the moment, but Harry couldn't. He needed more time to think the whole situation over. Yes, he liked Draco, but at the same time, he didn't completely believe everything that was spilling out of the white-blond's mouth. It was sudden after all. It was also real life. Unlike the very cliche romance books, Harry wasn't going to jump in Draco's arms at this moment and accept his love while crying tears of joy, because that would be unbelievable if he were to write an autobiography.
Harry watched, his mouth dry, as the white-blond figure disappeared behind the door. He contemplated whether to knock on the door or return to the Dursley's house. If Draco actually meant his words, then perhaps it would be a good idea to knock on the door and give the young Malfoy his answer, but what if he didn't? Harry felt the familiar clench in his heart once more.
He never actually pondered over how he liked Draco ; he knew he wanted to be friends with the other, just like years before, though, but he never considered this sort of like. Sure, he may have found Draco attractive— very attractive, actually— but he didn't think for a moment that he was a poof. And to actually love him? Harry didn't think that far. But now, he was.
Figuring that he needed to think over this situation in warmth, Harry scrambled off the snowy grounds and made his way back into the Dursley's house. From then, he seated himself on his bed and let his thoughts run free for the remaining time he had left before Hermione would pick him up.
Harry ran over his choices, then over the consequences. In the end, he decided that trying it out wasn't as bad, just as long as he kept his pants on and that they take it slow. As in, Draco better take him on dates and whatnot since he didn't have any form of transportation. Harry nodded to himself for this plan ; he would propose these thoughts to Draco and see how he would react. If the other accepted, then maybe he was telling the truth. If not, then all would be a lie.
Content with his decision, Harry slid out of his bed and peered at the time. He had time . . . since he only laid in bed and thought for about thirty minutes. By now, Draco should be calmed, right? He hoped so. He always felt uncomfortable under the young Malfoy's glare of disapproval.
Taking in a few breaths, then letting it out to calm himself, Harry made his way over to his neighbor's house and knocked. Then rang the doorbell. Then knocked again.
Finally, Draco decided to open the door.
"We need—" before Harry could continue, he felt himself being jerked from the cold weather and into the slightly warmer house. After that, he found himself choking on his breath as he was roughly shoved into the wall. And the next thing he realized? Draco was kissing him.
It was a forceful kissing, as if the other was trying to pass traces of his love to him.
And Harry didn't reject it. Instead, his eyes fluttered close as he began to fall into a pool of affection.
.oO - seventeen years old - Oo.
What the bloody hell was that?
Harry groaned tiredly as he blindly reached for his glasses on the desk. Once they were on his face, the raven-haired male gazed around the darkened room. There wasn't anything that was making the noise. His sights turned to the alarm clock. One AM. Moaning from that sight, Harry flopped back down and pulled the covers over his head.
A second later, a familiar plock! sound was heard once more. Throwing the covers off, Harry made his way to the attic window. After opening the window, he stuck his head out.
Below, Draco waved at him, holding rocks in his hands. Sighing, Harry threw his leg out the window, grabbed hold of the tree branch, and slowly climbed his way down. When his feet safely touched the ground, he felt strong arms embracing him from behind.
Harry sighed. "It's one in the morning, Draco. Couldn't you wait until morning?"
Draco kissed his neck before resting his head on Harry's shoulder. "I want to be the first person to wish you a Merry Christmas."
A chuckle escaped from the ravenet's lips. "Too late. Ginny already wished me one over IM at midnight."
"Bullocks. Well . . . I'll steal your first Christmas kiss."
Harry liked the sound of that. Turning around to face his boyfriend, he leaned up, closed his eyes, and allowed his mouth to meet the other's. Draco returned the gesture with equal passion ; his lips moved slowly in sync with Harry's, allowing both to taste each other wistfully. Taking the initiative this time, Harry's tongue darted out of his mouth and ran over the white-blond's bottom lip. Draco parted his lips and accepted the invitation. Allowing his tongue to slither into the other's mouth and brush against the opposing one, Harry snaked his arms around Draco's neck. In return, Draco's arms curved around Harry's waist, pulling them successfully together.
It felt like forever before they both separated for a breath. Harry took that moment to rest his head against Draco's shoulder. "It's been a year," Harry murmured.
"Mm," Draco responded absentmindedly while running a hand through the messy black locks.
"It didn't even feel like a year."
"That's because I took you out on a date every day for 358 days this year."*
Harry drew back and smacked the other's head playfully. "We didn't go out every day. Just maybe every other week."
"You like it."
A smile tugged on Draco's lips. "Yes, I do." Leaning in, he captured Harry's lips once more in a heated kiss.
After their small kissing session, Harry intertwined their fingers together and gestured Draco to sit down beside him. Draco sat. As the young Malfoy played with their joined fingers, Harry rested himself against the taller male. "I love you," he whispered, smiling.
"Love you too, Harry. Oh. Before I forget, I got you a present."
Without Harry's consent, Draco stood and made his way over to the bark of the tree. When he returned, he handed Harry the small gift.
Accepting the present, the raven-haired male unwrapped the object. His face immediately brightened. "Thank you, Draco!" he exclaimed, tackling the other to the ground with a hug. "How did you—"
"Mother agreed. We saw how much you adore it, and I'm getting a newer version this afternoon. So, why not?"
Harry continued to hug his partner tightly. "God, Draco— this is the best Christmas present I've gotten . . . aside from getting you last year, of course."
Draco laughed. "That's cheesy, Harry. Really cheesy."
.oO - eighteen years old - Oo.
This was one of the best Christmases Harry experienced as well, because the Dursley's decided to move out and sell their house to Harry for a small sum ( which was very surprising, indeed ). And with Draco's help, he successfully managed to complete the papers and buy the house from his aunt and uncle. But of course, this was done before Christmas. By time December rolled around, Harry and Draco had already thrown decorations over the house and set up for a bright Christmas. The house next to Harry's, though, was still occupied by the Malfoys, and Mr. Malfoy didn't exactly fancy decorating a lot.
Harry had offered many times that Draco could move in with him, since he lived right next door, but Mr. Malfoy insisted that Draco stay until he was married. This made Harry's heart flutter every time he thought of it. He was sure that Draco was going to propose soon. He just didn't know when.
In the mean time, Harry wrapped up a small object that he recently saw Draco looking interested in. The expression when the other opened the gift to see the silver watch was simply priceless. And much like last year, but with roles reversed, Draco childishly tackled him to the ground with a hug.
.oO - nineteen years old - Oo.
Ding dong! With the clock reading that it was a few minutes after midnight, Harry just knew it was Draco. Who else would come to his door the very minute of Christmas? Only his boyfriend. By knowing this, Harry wasn't even in bed. He sat in his kitchen, drinking hot chocolate, and waiting. And soon enough, Draco's presence greeted him.
After quickly checking his appearance in the mirror, Harry hurried to the door and opened it to welcome the white-blond male inside.
"Merry Christmas, Harry," Draco greeted, kissing him on the forehead before giving him a heavy, small present.
Harry flashed his boyfriend a smile. "Merry Christmas to you too." When the door was closed and locked, he took Draco's hand and led him to the living room, where they both seated themselves on the couch.
"So, what is this, Draco?" Harry asked, shaking the heavy box.
A smirk appeared on the young Malfoy's lips. "Open it and find out."
Quirking a brow with much amusement, Harry tore the wrapping off and took off the lid to the box. He picked up the black object and held it up between them. "Coal?" he questioned.
"Mhm," came Draco's reply as he pushed Harry onto his back against the couch. "You've been very naughty this year, Harry."
Without waiting for an answer, Draco leaned in a caught Harry's lips.
Being himself, Harry kissed back eagerly. Though, the kiss didn't linger on his mouth for long. Draco trailed butterfly touches with his warm lips down his neck while his fingers fumbled with the buttons to his pajamas. A soft hiss escaped from Harry's lips as his chest was suddenly exposed to the air.
Flushing, Harry arched his back to get a better feel of Draco's kiss on his stomach.
"D-Draco . . ."
Allowing his fingers to tangle in the soft white-blond hair, Harry tilted his head back, letting Draco continue with his touches.
He soon felt a finger trace the rim of his pajama pants before wriggling in. Though, just before Draco could touch him as he yearned for, Harry clutched the hair tightly. "Stop, Dra . . . stop, Draco." The fingers stopped walking immediately.
Panting softly, Harry gazed down at his partner. "Not until marriage. You know that."
The white-blond figure climbed back up and placed a chaste kiss on Harry's lips. "I know when to stop, though."
Harry sighed and cupped his boyfriend's face. "I love you, Draco, but I would like to keep my virginity until I'm married. I know I can't get pregnant and all, but I want my first time with someone that I tie a bond with." He pecked the other's lips and allowed his hands to slip off. "Please understand," he murmured.
"Well, then . . . how about you marry me, then?" Seeming to be out of nowhere, Draco pulled out a wedding ring and held it between them. "Not for the mindblowing sex, but because I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life together."
Harry stared, his finger floating in midair from touching the other's hair. "You're kidding."
Draco grinned. "Not at all."
Without thinking, Harry threw his arms around his mate. "Yes!" Happily, he kissed Draco's lips before burying his face in the other's neck. "That's all I wish for."
A light chuckle escaped from Draco's lips. "I know."
AN: Super long and late. Sorry for that. But at least there's another Christmas one, eh? 83 Oh, and for those who are wondering what Draco got Harry when they were seventeen: it is used to start up something that's pricey ; two words with three letters in both of them ; a driver's dream to have. Figure it out? And does Harry seem too dependable on Draco? I think so since Draco's usually giving gifts and whatnot. What do you think? D8
EDIT: * this year ; they haven't gone on a date from December 25 - 31 yet, thus why the number is not 365. . . . yes, leave it to Draco to be the math geek for once. e we