Title: Through Snowstorms
Author: Cassis Luna
Rating: PG-13
Warning/s: EWE, profanity, mentions of sex
Word Count: 1,500

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made out of this.

Summary: In which there's a snowstorm, Draco is cold and waiting for Harry, and they're both generally whipped with each other even though Draco tries not to show it too much by regularly making fun of him in the name of love.

Author's Notes: Spur-of-the-moment drabble :D Inspired by 101 Dalmatians, where Lucky says "I'm tired, and I'm hungry. And my tail's froze. And my nose is froze. And my ears are froze. And my toes are froze." :'D


Through Snowstorms

It was in the middle of winter five years after the war that a huge snowstorm decided to trot down in Wiltshire, England for a cup of tea. Draco Malfoy was home alone in Malfoy Manor and sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace that seemed to not want to provide him ample warmth out of spite that he had not re-strengthened the magic of the Manor in five years. Draco should really tell Harry about that, but the point was, it wasn't his fault that the Ministry was still full of righteous little snotbags and refused to let him have his wand back (or any other wand for that matter).

It wasn't much of a problem since the Manor pretty much did everything for him and the house elves were really handy too (How could Granger ever think of liberating them from such good jobs well done?), and it didn't hurt that Draco now had Harry Potter living in his house and pretty much being at his beck and call.

And now we go back to the reason why Draco Malfoy was home alone in Malfoy Manor with his knees drawn up to his chest, not getting enough warmth and shivering from head to toe because Saint Potter decided to go into this Very Important Auror mission of his and leave Draco home alone!

When Harry finally got his Auror badge last week, they spent a good three rounds fucking on their bed in their room (previously Draco's bed in Draco's room) before Draco found out that Harry was to be deported to Scotland in four days. Draco threw a tantrum for ten minutes before Harry went down on him and did that really great thing with his tongue which mollified Draco enough to scream "Yes!" when Harry asked him in the middle of a handjob if it was alright for him to go. An (utterly mind-blowing) orgasm later, Draco was furious at how he had been played but he never could resist Potter's smile very much especially when he looked at Draco like Draco was the only one he loved and ever will.

So it was now two days after Harry's departure.

Draco sat in the lounge of the Manor at past midnight, glowering into the weak flames of the fireplace and cursing Potter in his head because he wasn't home yet and it's been two days and Draco was going out of his mind just sitting there waiting for Potter to come out of the fire and trip over the carpet because Potter has never gotten used to Flooing but even more so to Flooing and the Manor's carpeted floor.

His mother was out in France in her self-imposed exile for the holidays so he couldn't go and borrow her wand and Draco certainly wasn't going to ask the house elves to cast Warming Charms because house elves may have brilliant magic but he didn't trust them with anything other than cooking and cleaning. The Manor was warm, yes… when the strongest blizzard of the century wasn't in front of its doorstep anyway.

Draco had dragged the comforter of their bed down from their room to the lounge and now had it wrapped around his body tightly but he'd been there for two hours now and the cold was starting to seep in. In addition to that, he was feeling slightly sleepy already but no, he kept himself awake because he wanted to yell at Harry the first moment that the man steps inside because it's been two days and there's a fucking snowstorm outside and a part of Draco wanted Harry home already but another part didn't want him home tonight because Merlin knows how dangerous it was to Floo or Apparate in such extreme weather.

He knew that Harry could take care of himself though, but two days of doing nothing but moping around the house did things to one's temperance. Harry had said that Kingsley was doing all he can to get Draco's wand back, but five years was a long time to spend with only Potions to do as magic. Oh, Draco was doing very well for an ex-Death Eater and his name was very renowned in the Potions field, but there was just something else about having magic flow through your fingertips and out like a burst of fireworks. He used Harry's wand often, but it just wasn't the same.

But, well, Draco did regularly have his dose of magic through Harry, five years was a good enough time to master certain spells after all…

Draco groaned, burying his cold nose in his comforter-clad lap. (The comforter smelled deliciously of Harry.) He was seriously suffering from something, if his pastime merely included fantasizing about Potter and sex spells.

"Fucking Potter," he muttered, drawing the comforter tighter around himself and rubbing his arms underneath it.

He wasn't even sure if Harry was coming home tonight; the git conveniently forgot to tell him, so here Draco was, keeping his eyes open and his toes from freezing off.

Maybe… maybe Draco should sleep. He'd definitely wake up at the sound of Harry coming out of the Floo (the man had the grace of a duck, after all), if that was anytime tonight anyway.

Still grumbling about incompetent bespectacled gits, Draco buried his face in his lap and closed his eyes –

At the same time that the fire burst high and green and out came Harry, flailing and almost tripping over the carpet again.

Draco was wide awake at once and full of indignant fury. "About time you got back, Potter!" he snarled, as Harry righted himself and began walking towards him. "You have a lot of making up to do because I'm tired and sleepy, and my nose is frozen, and my ears are frozen and my toes are frozen and there's a fucking snowstorm outside and I've been waiting since –"

Harry stopped in front of him, curled the fingers of one hand in Draco's hair and pressed his lips gently against Draco's, and Draco was thinking about how he loved this man and how Harry needed to get inside the comforter with him if his lips were shivering like that.

Harry's fingers were cold too, but when he pulled away, a smile was on his face, and Draco realized just how dirty Harry was, dirt sticking to his face and his clothes and his hair littered with melting snow.

"Sorry," Harry said, chuckling tiredly as he planted another kiss on Draco's lips. "You were waiting for me?"

Draco glared at him. "I most certainly was not!" he lied, even though he was just about to say so a few seconds ago. He opened the comforter and tugged at Harry's arm as an indication for him to sit down beside Draco. "Now get in here before your face freezes off, and you're a wizard, aren't you? There are things called Impervius and Warming Charms!"

"Was in a hurry to get home," Harry mumbled, kicking off his shoes and settling in beside Draco, dirty Auror robes and all. He immediately snuggled against the blond's side, throwing his legs over Draco's lap and his arms around Draco's waist.

Draco flinched as Harry's cold hands touched his arms. He closed the comforter around them, and under it, he grabbed Harry's hands and rubbed them between his. "You're dirty," he said flatly.

Harry grinned tiredly at him, and shifted some more, leaning heavily against him. He took out his wand and waved it, casting a Warming Charm around them. "Do you want me to take a bath now?" he asked innocently, even though he already knew the answer.

Draco pulled Harry close and curled his own arms around him. "Pompous git," Draco muttered, but he was warm now and Harry was home and as far as he was concerned, there was only one thing left that both of them needed to do. "Go to sleep, Harry. You look like a troll."

And Harry grinned at him and leaned up to kiss him again, swiping his tongue over Draco's bottom lip as his gratitude.

"Scotland's horrible at this time of the year…" Harry muttered, closing his eyes as he recalled the events of his mission. "Not that England's any different, the weather's absolutely horrible here too, and Ron kept on complaining about how 'Mione wasn't giving him any slack…"

And Draco listened and kept him warm and didn't even mind when Harry's sleepy mumblings about escaped vampires dissolved into slurred murmurs of and I missed you so much, Draco. Or when Harry stopped talking at all and fell asleep on him.

Merlin knows that Draco will still throw a tantrum out of obligation but that would be for tomorrow when Harry would smile at him and all would be forgiven.

Right now, though, Draco just held Harry close and muttered about how snowstorms can just go fuck themselves.