Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for a head filled with too many words. I decided I would give you a few for Christmas. I'm like Santa, giving you M-rated gifts.

Warnings: Hot chocolate with cream. Boxes of Christmas ornaments and decorations. Teddy's inability to say words properly and his sometimes quite bad grammar. Oh right, and sexual content – but who needs a warning for that anyway?

Before I forget it: this one-shot is dedicated to moltie, who is the best dancing dressage horse I have ever known.

The First Advent

Harry yawned as he lit the first of the Advent candles. He had planned on doing so at breakfast, but had forgotten all about it when the Auror Department had called him in for an urgent job. Even though Christmas was supposed to be a time of kindness, the activity at the Auror Department had never been higher and more stressful than it was now.

He yawned again and stretched his arms over his head, until his back creaked in protest. His gaze fell on the abandoned plate on the kitchen table and sighed as he noticed that it had been standing there long enough for the leftovers to get stuck.

"Malfoy!" he called and poked the food with the fork. It didn't budge.

"What?" a voice called back, distant. Harry suspected that the other man had locked himself in the study and was in one of those phases again.

"Nothing!" Harry replied after a few moments of hesitation and levitated the plate to the stack of equally dirty plates on the kitchen counter. He would do the dishes tomorrow.

Living with Draco wasn't easy in any way. He had first moved into Grimmauld Place needing a safer place to live until he had finished his next book. Rumours on the street said that it was going to expose a few important and very dirty employees of the Ministry – something that had caused the Auror Department to worry about Draco's safety. His last book had gotten half of the board members of the Quidditch Association fired.

That was months ago, when he was still Malfoy in Harry's head and the most annoying person on the planet. The latter part was still true, but somewhere between the constant bickering and fighting, a few times even with wands, Harry had fallen for him. Hard. He had not said anything to Draco – not even Harry was that stupid – in hope that the feelings would fade away with time. They hadn't.

Harry's heart contracted just from thinking about the way Draco stirred his tea in the morning, or how he always chewed his bottom lip when looking through one of his many books.

Hermione knew. Harry hadn't told her, but she had confronted him when they'd had lunch together, weeks ago. According to her, it was obvious to anyone with functioning eyesight and a brain. Eventually, Ron had found out, too. At first he had been furious, convinced that Draco had sneaked a love potion into Harry's tea, or that it was the work of the Imperiuscurse. Then he had started talking about it as the Malfoy-phase,as though it was something Harry was just going through, like any normal stage in life.

Draco didn't seem to notice, however. He was still the same, insufferable brat most of the time, but lately it was something Harry had started to enjoy. The dry sarcasm, the smirks, the way he seemed to cherish every moment he made Harry snap with the annoying remarks. And the times Draco actually smiled, and the times they were able to talk like normal people with each other.

Harry had been utterly surprised when he had realised that Draco was actually quite nice to talk to. He took his time to explain pureblood insanities, values that the other man had seemed to have put behind him, and he asked Harry a lot of questions about his work, as though even the most boring jobs were fascinating to him.

God, he was losing himself in thought again. Harry shook his head in an attempt to clear it, and groaned inwardly as he looked around. The house was a long way from Christmas. Everything was covered in a month worth of dust, dirty dishes stood everywhere in the kitchen, and there was not a single decoration in sight. The world outside was equally grey and inexpressive. Not a snowflake had fallen since the middle of November. Snow that had melted away as quickly as it had fallen.

With a glance at the watch on the wall above the kitchen doorway, Harry started to prepare the evening tea. Draco was going to be down any minute because he always was. He had surprised Harry with his way of making routines of everything and how furious he was when he wasn't able to keep them. At first, Harry had done his best to break them, but lately he had started to make everything he could to keep them, just for the smiles he got in reward.

"Rough day?" A dry voice said from behind him, and Harry jumped in surprise, causing the other man to laugh.

"Is it that obvious?" Harry muttered and stirred more sugar than the Health Department probably recommended into the other man's cup.

"Yes. You look like crap." Draco said it casually – a matter-of-factly – and not like the insult Harry thought it to be. God knew how hard he tried to at least get anywhere close to the other man's ridiculous good looks. This wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Thanks," he muttered dryly and hoped that the hurt didn't show on his face as he looked up, connecting their gazes. Yes, today was not an exception to Draco's stunningly-ness. Harry didn't even think that that was a real word, but it described the man in front of him perfectly. The platinum blonde hair, the silver-grey eyes, the sharp features and the always-immaculate clothes.

Harry's heart fluttered as he got a smile in reward for the tea he offered.

"So, what kind of evil did you have to set right this time?" Draco asked, when they were sitting in their respective armchairs, staring into the crackling flames in the fireplace a few moments later. The Advent candle was placed on the mantel, and the single burning candle looked kind of ridiculous compared to the much bigger flames beneath it.

"A witch had locked her husband into a shrinking chest, because she didn't like the present he had bought for her. It took five bloody hours to convince her to give us the key and, when we finally got him out of there, he was the size of a thumb." Harry rubbed his face with his hands, remembering the frustrating negotiation he'd had with the woman, and enjoyed the feeling of warmth from his palms heating the skin on his face.

Draco chuckled and sipped on his tea with a delightful look on his face. He looked so good that Harry's stomach tied itself into a tight knot, with the flickering light from he fireplace casting shadows over Draco's face, turning his hair from silver to gold.

"How's the book going?" Harry asked to keep himself focused on something else. Harry always asked the same question every night, and was always afraid to hear the other man say that he was finished and was about to leave. He held his breath and stared into the fire, mentally crossing his fingers.

"I'm a bit stuck. Not quite finished."

Harry relaxed and sighed inwardly. He only nodded in response to Draco's words, trying his best to look indifferent.

"Eager to get rid of me?" the other man asked.

Harry knew that he was smirking even before looking up.

"Of course not," he said quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly. "I just wanted to know if you're planning to stay over Christmas or not."

"I might," Draco said with a small nod.

Harry prayed that that meant yes.

"Okay," he said quietly, noticing how his body seemed to relax as though he had been tense without knowing this himself.

"Right, I almost forgot," Draco said suddenly, as if he only just remembered. "That insufferable kid was here earlier."

"Teddy?" Harry asked, knowing all too well that Draco and the small boy didn't exactly get along.

"Yes. The one I should give a new front tooth to, for Christmas."

Harry couldn't help but smile at this. Teddy had, indeed, only one of his two front teeth left, and apparently that annoyed Draco to no limit.

"He will probably have lost the second one by then," he pointed out, and glanced at the other man from the corner of his eye.

"Perhaps I'll bring out my inner Hufflepuff and give him two."

Harry laughed, more because of the fact that Draco had actually said that he had an inner Hufflepuff, than the front teeth-comment.

"You're too kind," he managed at last, and his insides turned to a dozen fuzzy pygmy puffs as he got a bright, completely disarming smile in answer.

Yes, Harry had it bad for Draco Malfoy.

xXx

The Second Advent

This time, Harry remembered to light the second of the Advent candles, even before sitting down at the kitchen table to eat his breakfast.

Halfway to Christmas, he thought as he filled his starving stomach with bacon and egg, accompanied by two cups of steaming hot tea. Draco didn't eat breakfast – something Harry had learned fairly quickly. At first, he had seen breakfast time as an oasis, a time where he could forget about the other man completely for a while and the misery of living under the same roof. Now, he mostly felt abandoned the hours before Draco got out of bed. Not that they spent much time together when the other man was awake either, but the house was less quiet that way.

"Uncle Harry!" a familiar voice shouted and jerked Harry out of his thoughts. Teddy.

He turned around on his chair just in time to see the boy bounce into the kitchen, dressed in a colourful mess of an orange and blue check Weasley shirt, purple trousers and dark green hair. Harry couldn't help but grin as he took in the vision in front of him.

"Look! I'm a Christmas tree!" Teddy pointed eagerly towards his green mop of hair and smiled brightly, showing off his one remaining front tooth.

"Fantastic," Harry nodded, and got up from his chair to hug the boy tightly. "Does grandma know you're here?" he asked then, remembering the time Teddy sneaked out of his home when Andromeda was still asleep. She had been half-hysterical with worry before Harry had been able to assure her that Teddy was safe and sound, petting one of the pygmy puffs in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Yes," Teddy said in a bored voice and rolled his eyes. Then he looked around, wrinkling his nose in clear disgust as he took in the poor shape of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. "There's no Christmas in here," he stated.

"I know," Harry sighed. "I haven't had the time to clean, or decorate or anything in ages."

"Maybe you could hex The Other One to do it," Teddy suggested with a grin. The Other One was Draco. At least the feeling between those two were mutual, Harry thought.

"He's busy too," he explained diplomatically, but wished that he could man up and ask Draco to at least do his own dishes every once in a while. Dishes that stood in piles on the kitchen counter, only days away from being surrounded by flies. "And hexing people is bad," he added quickly, remembering Hermione's speech about taking responsibility.

Teddy only rolled his eyes at this, something Harry had a feeling that the boy had picked up from Draco.

"Alright," Harry said and looked around. "I can bring the boxes with decorations down from the attic, if you help me decorate."

"Yes!" Teddy jumped and punched the air.

A while later, Harry had managed to bring the boxes down the unsteady ladder that lead to the attic. Now, he was covered in dust and couldn't stop sneezing. Teddy, on the other hand, couldn't stop laughing at him.

"You look like a snow man, uncle Harry!" he explained happily, as Harry tried to shake the dust from his hair, causing another sneezing attack as the particles filled the air.

As they carried the boxes down the stairs, Harry levitating all but one, which Teddy insisted carrying on his own, they bumped into Draco. Literally. The other man looked as if though he had only just stepped out of the shower and gotten dressed, his hair still wet and long lashes still water-spiked.

"Spectacular trousers," he said dryly and nodded towards Teddy's colourful clothing, who either didn't catch the sarcasm or effectively ignored it, only narrowing his eyes slightly as his gaze fell on Draco's grey dress trousers and said:

"Maybe you should get a pair."

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or reprimand Teddy for being rude, but decided to do the first as Draco's eyes widened slightly, before turning into a glare as he said:

"Maybe you should get another front tooth."

"I have one," Teddy explained, clearly immune to the other man's cold stare, and opened his mouth before sticking his finger into the gap where his tooth used to be. "Grandma told me it's in my gums. It just has to come out."

"Fascinating," Draco said indifferently and walked passed them, rolling his eyes at Harry in a very Teddy-like fashion. "I need to write."

Harry stood there a few moments, looking at Teddy, who still had his finger in the gap in his teeth, and listened to Draco's frantic typing from the typewriter in the study.

"He doesn't like me," Teddy stated as they began walking down the last set of stairs.

"Of course he likes you," Harry said quickly. "He's just very busy."

"You're a bad liar, uncle Harry." The boy shook his head carelessly and bounced down the steps, most likely destroying everything in the box he was carrying.

They started digging through the many decorations in the living room. Teddy quickly claimed a very small Christmas tree, which danced around the room when you pushed a button. A button that stopped working after a while, when Teddy had punched it down a little too brutally, too many times. He didn't seem to care that the dancing tree didn't dance anymore, however, but held it tightly to his side.

"What's that?" Teddy asked and peered into one of the boxes, standing on the tip of his toes to get tall enough.

"It's ornaments for the big tree," Harry told him, as he carefully lifted out the colourful, sparkly baubles, bells and small witches' hats.

"What?" Teddy asked, frowning.

"They're called ornaments," Harry said again.

"Or-na-ments," Teddy repeated, trying out the word, and started helping out with lifting out the creations. He paused, holding up a small silver bell in front of his face. His nose winkled as if he was thinking hard. "But uncle Harry, we don't even have a tree to put the organents in."

"Oh right," Harry said with a sigh, and stopped in the middle of his movement, looking down at the coffee table full of ornaments for the Christmas tree. "I haven't had the time to get one of those either."

Teddy frowned and put the small silver bell on his not-dancing Christmas tree.

"It's not big enough for all of them," he said then, and shook the tree a little, causing the single silver bell to clink happily.

"No, it isn't," Harry agreed and sat down on the armrest of Draco's armchair. Yes, Harry thought of it as Draco's.He looked around at the mess they had caused in the living room – a very colourful mess of red ribbons and Christmas decorations, but it was still nothing more than a mess. He didn't have the energy for this right now. "Do you want to go to Diagon Alley instead? George told me that they have sparkling pygmy puffs now."

"Really?" Teddy said, face lighting up.

"That's what he told me. Do you want to check them out?" Diagon Alley could keep Teddy busy for a day. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes could keep his attention for a life time.

"Do you even have to ask, uncle Harry?" Teddy said and rolled his eyes. "I'll bring my tree. It wants to see the sparkly ones, too."

The silver bell on the not-dancing Christmas tree, under Teddy's arm, clinked all the way through the clammed streets of Diagon Alley, to their final destination of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Teddy held his hand tightly and talked non-stop. Mostly about the sparkly pygmy puffs he was about to see.

There was still no snow in sight, Harry thought, as he held up the door to the shop for Teddy, who quickly let go of his hand and bounced through the doorway. The shop was full of laughing children, witches and wizards. Even though Harry wasn't very fond of large groups of people, he rather enjoyed the atmosphere of unabashed happiness within the walls of the joke shop.

"Harry!"

He looked up quickly and grinned, as he noticed Ron make his way towards him through the crowd.

"Hello," Harry said as soon as Ron was within earshot. "Are you the one running this place today?"

"Yeah," his friend nodded and motioned for him to follow. "George is away on a trip, trying to get some new ideas for next year. Are you here alone?"

"No." Harry shook his head and tried to spot Teddy's green hair in the crowd. "Teddy's here somewhere. He wanted to look at the sparkly pygmy puffs."

"Of course he did," Ron said with a grin. "They're everyone's favourite, selling like treacle tart."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at the parable and nodded, quite certain that the sparkling pygmy puffs really did sell very well.

"They're this way," Ron nodded towards another part of the shop, and Harry followed him, trying to squeeze himself through the other shoppers and avoiding setting off any of the fake wands or extra explosive exploding snap cards at the same time. The part of the shop Ron had lead him to was filled with children, whom all peered into a massive cage in one corner. Harry noticed a mop of green hair closest to the cage and smiled, as he could see how Teddy almost leaned all the way over the fence.

"There he is," he said to Ron, who had stopped.

"He'll refuse to leave without one," his friend said and grinned, knowing Harry's weakness for Teddy's will all too well.

"I know. I think I might get him one for Christmas."

"Good plan. You're coming to our place next Sunday, right? Sticking to tradition?" Ron suddenly looked a little worried.

"Of course," Harry said and frowned. "It's tradition. I'll be there."

"And...and Malfoy won't come along, will he?" Ron asked, after a few moments of hesitation. His ears were turning pink, as though he was ashamed to ask the question.

"No," Harry replied and sighed. "I highly doubt that." Not that Harry didn't want Draco to come, but he had a hard time believing that the other man had any time to go anywhere for an annual Third-of-Advent dinner. Especially not one hosted by Ron and Hermione.

"Still in that phase?" his friend asked then, clearly relieved. Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes at the words. It wasn't exactly puberty they were talking about.

"Yes," he answered finally, sighing again, and glued his gaze to Teddy, who seemed to be petting one of the pygmy puffs through the fence. "Very much so."

"Bloody hell," Ron said suddenly, causing Harry to look up. To his relief, Ron wasn't referring to his crush on Draco, but on the huge line at the register. "Sorry mate, business is calling. See you next Sunday?"

He didn't wait for an answer, but waved hastily over his shoulder and quickly made his way to the line. Harry didn't even bother to reply, knowing that Ron wouldn't hear him anyway, as he turned back to the group of children in front of the cage and made his way to Teddy. As he crouched down next to the boy, who had stuck his fingers through the bars of the fence to pet one of the creatures inside, he couldn't help but smile.

"Look, uncle Harry! It likes me!" Teddy squealed and stroked the black, sparkling fur of the pygmy puff on the other side, with one finger.

Harry didn't know much about animals, but it actually did look like the pygmy puff liked the boy.

"I think he does," he agreed and rose to look over the fence and the many sparkling balls of fur inside the cage. They were in all colours one could imagine: pink, blue, lilac, red, golden, green and yellow, but as far as Harry could see, Teddy's pygmy puff was the only black one.

"Can I have it? Please uncle Harry, pleeaaase?" Teddy begged, his eyes seemingly growing bigger, and the boy suddenly looked very much like a sad puppy.

"You'll have to ask your grandma first," Harry tried, knowing all too well that it wouldn't work.

"But uncle Harry, someone else will have buyed it then." Teddy's bottom lip started to tremble dangerously.

"I'm sure no one will have bought it by tomorrow, Teddy," Harry said lamely. For once, he would actually like to give the boy a gift that he didn't know about in advance.

"But please," Teddy whined again and shot a longing glance towards the pygmy puff on the other side of the fence, making Harry feel like a villain.

"No," he said firmly and shook his head. "You have to ask grandma. I'm sure she'll want you home soon anyway. Wait outside while I talk to Ron real quick. I have to ask him something about next week."

Harry really was a bad liar, but he still felt bad as he watched Teddy walk towards the door with slouching shoulders and head low, his not-dancing Christmas tree dragging after him on the floor, as he held it carelessly by one branch. Clearly, the black, sparkling pygmy puff had made the tree boring.

"Ron," Harry said quickly once Teddy had exited the shop, sitting miserably at the bottom of the entry staircase. His friend looked up in surprise between the customers, as though he had forgotten all about Harry being there in the first place. "Teddy really wants that black pygmy puff, and it's the only one left. Can you keep it until Christmas? I can't take it home because he'll find it."

"Of course, mate," Ron answered with a grin, and shook his head firmly as Harry tried to pay him. "It's forbidden for you to pay here. George will hex me if he finds out that I have received even as much as a Knut from you."

"Fine," Harry muttered, as he glanced at the witch who had been about to pay, before he had jumped the queue. "I'm sorry," he mouthed at her and hurried his way through the shop, only to find Teddy still looking miserable outside.

The boy sulked all the way home, refusing to hold onto Harry's hand, and quickly went back to his grandma's. Harry couldn't help but feel guilty, as he noticed that the not-dancing Christmas tree had been left behind.

"Now what have you done?" a voice said behind him, and Harry looked around, finding Draco standing on the last step of the staircase, leaning casually against the handrail. He looked fantastic and tired, at the same time. Harry suspected that he had been writing in the very same frantic manner since he had left for Diagon Alley with Teddy.

"I refused to buy him a sparkling pygmy puff," Harry confessed quietly, feeling his mouth go dry as Draco stepped down the last step, walking closer as he undid his cufflinks. He walked in that very controlled, still somehow careless, way Harry had never seen anyone else pull off but Draco. And it made his heart pound and his fingers itch, with the need to touch.

"How bad of you," Draco smirked and quirked an eyebrow. "I had the impression that you give him everything he points at."

"I'm going to give it to him for Christmas," Harry breathed and blinked rapidly, in an attempt to clear his head from inappropriate thoughts. He felt like kissing the other man senseless against the doorpost, right this second.

"Figures," Draco snorted and rubbed his neck with a grimace. "Kinks," he explained, when he noticed Harry frowning at him.

"Oh," was all Harry could manage as the other man groaned. Most likely from the unpleasant feeling of the muscle strains in his neck, but it sounded extremely erotic to Harry's ears, and the sound of it shot like white hot electricity, directly to his groin.

"Perhaps you can help me," Draco said suddenly, and Harry thought that his voice sounded almost husky, something that was probably the creation of his own imagination.

"Help you?" he repeated, his brain completely blank from anything but thoughts of how extremely sexy the other man was.

"Neck massage?" Draco motioned towards his armchair before sinking down in it. He looked at Harry again, who still stood dumbfounded at the door. "So I can finish my book quicker and can move out of here," Draco explained, as if those were the words Harry wanted to hear.

"Er," Harry said and blinked a few times. Those were the words he was supposed to want to hear, but most of all, he really just wanted to touch the other man. "Sure."

And before he knew it, he was standing behind Draco's armchair, pretending to know how a neck massage was done and kneading the soft skin and tense muscles of the other man's neck. Draco's head tipped forward in relaxation, and let out a low groan of appreciation that made Harry's fingers tingle. As he looked out the window, effectively ignoring the mess of Christmas tree ornaments, decorations and ribbons around them, he wished that he could do this forever.

xXx

The Third Advent

Harry was exhausted, and the feeling of being overly full with Christmas food didn't make his fight against falling asleep any easier. He had been working non-stop the past week and had barely been able to get even six hours of sleep every night.

"How's Malfoy's book coming along?" Hermione asked, as she placed the red teacups on the table. They were awful, with patterns of small glass baubles in every colour one could imagine. She called them her Christmas cups. Harry and Ron called them a crime against real teacups.

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly. He had barely seen Draco at all, the past week. They hadn't even been able to eat dinner together as they used to, because of Harry's late work hours. "I think he's doing alright, though. He's writing constantly, anyway."

"I actually look forward to reading it. His last book was fantastic."

Her words caused Harry to look up. Hermione had accepted Harry's unusual subject of his crush, but that she would actually comment on anything that Draco had created, let alone a book – which was something she loved perhaps even more than she loved Ron – was extraordinary.

"I haven't read it," Harry confessed and smiled sheepishly.

"Me neither," Ron said, as he sat down in the chair next to Harry. "What's it about?"

"I told you about it the other night," Hermione sighed. "It's about the corruption within the Quidditch Association. How teams have bribed judges and board members to get more funding or to win games. It's very critical, and a very fascinating read."

"Are you going to fall in love with him too, Hermione? Lately it seems like everyone around me suddenly considers Malfoy to be someone we're supposed to like," Ron muttered and folded his arms over his chest.

"He's not that bad, Ron," Harry said quietly and looked down at his empty teacup. He wasn't up for having this discussion again.

"You can't choose who you fall in love with, Ron." Hermione gave him a sharp look, and then squeezed Harry's shoulder gently, as if to tell him that she was on his side. "I sure know I didn't."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at the offended look on Ron's face.

"By the way, Harry," Hermione said, taking the opportunity to change the subject. "Have you got the tickets?"

Ron looked up. He seemed to have forgotten all about being offended. "Tickets? To what?"

"The Celestina Warbeck concert," Harry muttered and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Are you going to a Celestina Warbeck concert?" Ron looked appalled. "Why?"

Hermione sighed and shook her head as she said: "It's a charity concert. It's to raise money for British orphans. It's on Christmas Eve, and you and I both are going."

Harry wasn't exactly thrilled about attending a charity concert, especially not with Celestina Warbeck's music, but he didn't have much of a choice.

"Do you know anyone who wants to go? I have an extra ticket," he said, instead of whining about having no better way to spend Christmas Eve than attending some stupid concert.

"I think Gin-" Ron began, but Hermione silenced him with a look.

"Perhaps you could ask Malfoy?" she said smoothly and turned to Harry.

"I don't think he wants to go," he mumbled and mentally added: with me. Because even if Draco actually managed to find time to do something else than writing his book, Harry had a very hard time believing that he would be up for a Celestina Warbeck concert, let alone with Harry.

"It doesn't hurt to ask him," Hermione pointed out, and put the teapot back on the stove as soon as their cups were filled. "I'm sure he could use a break from his writing, on Christmas Eve."

"Fine," Harry muttered, knowing all too well that she wasn't suggesting this because she cared about Draco getting some time off from his writing. "I'll ask him."

He had actually planned to ask Draco, but when he arrived home, Grimmauld Place was in a miserable state. His Auror duties had made it impossible to find time to clean, and there were small mountains of dishes in the kitchen. Apparently, Draco had all the time in the world to prepare a great dinner, considering the amount of dirty pans and piles of new trash in the sink, but helping out with the cleaning, or even do his own dishes, was clearly too much to ask for.

If it was the lack of sleep and too much work, or the fact that he really was sick of Draco's annoying attitude, Harry wasn't sure, but a moment later, he was making his way up the stairs, anger pounding stronger through his body with every heartbeat. The irritating sound of the other man's frantic typing made him even more wired up and, as he banged the door open to the study, he had to fight the urge to draw his wand and cast whatever curse that popped up in his head first.

Draco looked up, turning around slightly in his chair. His eyes widened slightly as their gazes connected, as if he only then noticed that Harry was in a bad mood.

"What did Weasel do this time?" he asked dryly, causing Harry to wonder how he could be in love with the git to begin with.

"I don't know, but at least he cleans up after himself," he snapped, and he tried to keep his voice steady as he continued: "It's my job to keep you safe. You're allowed to stay here to be safe. It's not my job to be your fucking House-Elf and clean up your messes."

Draco opened his mouth, as if to say something, but Harry didn't care.

"I work sixteen bloody hours a day, and you can't even do your own dishes!" Keeping his voice steady wasn't exactly going so well, Harry thought, as he heard his words tremble from suppressed anger. "You're pathetic, you know that? You can't even clean up after yourself! You're fucking pathetic."

And then Harry left, banging the door shut after him, body trembling slightly as though he had just finished a several-hour workout. He prayed that Draco wouldn't open the door and hex his balls off, as he walked to his bedroom without looking back, but he made it all the way to sinking down on the edge of his bed with all body parts intact.

He groaned in frustration, as he rubbed his hands over his face. It didn't matter that he had wanked himself raw a week ago, just because of that stupid massage, because Draco was still a spoiled brat and apparently incapable of taking responsibility.

As the sound of the frantic typing echoed through the thin walls again, a moment later, Harry had to fight hard not to bang his head against the headboard and rant every curse word he knew. Clearly, his short outburst of rage hadn't affected Draco very much at all, and now he felt pathetic for sitting on the side of his bed, face buried in his hands. The other man had always had the ability to get to him so easy. God, how Harry resented that more than ever.

The worst part was that he started to feel bad because of his failure to control his temper, a few hours later, as he lay in his bed, unable to sleep even though his body was screaming from being so tired. With a sigh, Harry got out of bed and quickly pulled a t-shirt over his head to accompany his pyjama bottoms. As he opened the door to his bedroom, the sound from Draco's finger punching the letters of the typewriter became stronger, and his stomach made an insecure lurch. Harry wasn't exactly made for apologizing, he had learned over the years; the words always seemed to come out in the wrong order.

He fiddled nervously with the hem of his shirt, as he creaked the door to the study open. Draco didn't even react from where he sat, slouched over the typewriter. Harry absentmindedly wondered if this was the only time the other man let go of his straight posture, but it wasn't exactly the right time to ask.

"Do you have a minute?" he asked, frowning over the insecure tone to his own voice.

"Mm," Draco answered, without looking up, his fingers still punching the keys in a pace faster than what seemed humanly possible.

Harry paused a moment, waiting for the other man to turn around to look at him, but he didn't.

"Sorry I snapped at you," he said quietly, and bit his bottom lip. If he had felt stupid before, that was nothing compared to what he was feeling now, staring at someone else's back.

"Don't worry about it," Draco said, his voice negligent. He didn't stop typing.

"I...it has just been so much work lately and I..." Harry trailed off, realising that he still didn't get a reaction from the other man.

"I understand," Draco said, after a too-long breath of silence, making it clear that he wasn't particularly engaged in the conversation.

"I was going to ask you," Harry began, and he wished that he could just throw the stupid typewriter out the window, but he had a feeling that it wouldn't do much to reinforce his apology. "I was going to ask you if perhaps you would like to go to the charity concert with Celestina Warbeck on Christmas Eve? Maybe? With me."

He thought that Draco stopped typing for only a fraction of a second, but the feeling of hope quickly disappeared as the other man made a small, stiff nod.

"Sounds lovely," he said then, his tone still indifferent to Harry's ears.

"Great. That's...yeah. Great." He nodded, more to himself than anything, and wanted bang his head against the nearest wall. "I guess I'm going back to bed. Goodnight."

He didn't even get an answer, even though he closed the door unnaturally slowly behind him, as he left the study, heading downstairs to get a glass of water before going to bed. He wasn't even sure if he actually had gotten a yes from Draco when it came to the charity concert, or if it was more like the conversations Hermione used to have with Ron, when he was listening to the Canons' games on radio. When he looked around in the miserable kitchen, his gaze fell on the Advent candles and realised that he hadn't even remembered to light the third fucking candle.

As he looked out the window, letting the third candle burn for just a few minutes, the first December snow had started to fall in big downy flakes outside. At least something was going right.

xXx

The Fourth Advent

Christmas Eve

This was one of those rare years when the fourth of Advent and Christmas Eve happened to be on the same day. It was rather late afternoon and already dark outside, when Harry walked home from the Ministry. Normally, he would use the floo network, or Apparate to the street outside his home, but today he felt a sudden need for a walk and fresh air.

The cold was biting his cheeks, and the snow crunched beneath his feet as the stars crowded the clear sky above him. The past week had been puzzling, to say the least. Draco had been writing non-stop, consuming an alarming amount of tea, and Harry wondered if he slept at all.

Sadly, the house was still in the same miserable state as it had been the past month. If not worse, since the piles of dirty dishes steadily grew bigger. God, this wasn't the Christmas Eve he had hoped for this year. In a couple hours, he would have to attend the Celestina Warbeck concert, and he still didn't know if Draco had agreed to accompany him or not, because Harry hadn't been able to find his inner Gryffindor to ask again.

Too quickly, the exterior of Number 12 Grimmauld Place came into view, causing his stomach to tie itself into a thousand knots of nervousness. He was afraid to find the house deserted, with only a note left at the kitchen table, telling him that Draco had left for good.

As he hesitantly walked up the few steps to the front door, he noticed how a dim light was fighting its way through the windows. Curiously, he opened the door and was instantly surrounded by every smell he associated with Christmas. Surprised, he stepped inside the door and closed it behind him, unwilling to let the scents escape into the city outside.

"I was starting to think that you wouldn't come home," a soft voice said, and forced Harry to look away from the mistletoe hanging in the doorway to the living room. Draco was leaning against the doorpost to the kitchen, smiling for the first time in more than a week. Harry's chest contracted hard around his heart.

"I..." Harry began, but he didn't finish the sentence, because he had no idea what he was going to say. Instead, he walked into the kitchen, gaping at the spotless counters and the absence of dirty plates. It smelled of cleaning spells, pine trees and hot tea. When he turned around to look at Draco to say something, if only to make sure that he wasn't crazy and everything was nothing but an illusion, the other man only motioned towards the living room.

Harry had to stop in the doorway, leaning against it slightly, as though he needed support. Enchanted stars were swaying gently in the windows, filling the room with a soft, golden light, and a Christmas tree stood on the opposite side of the room, decorated with all the glass baubles, bells and witches' hats that had occupied the coffee table for two weeks. And then there was Teddy, his hair crimson and dressed in all dark green, fighting to put an ornament on one of the lower branches.

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry from the feelings that suddenly filled the place inside him, where the shock and surprise had been two seconds ago.

"He helped me pick out the tree," Draco said quietly, and came to stand beside him, their elbows touching whenever they inhaled at the same time.

"You willingly spent time with Teddy?" Harry had to ask, even though it wasn't the declaration of love and gratefulness he wanted to give them both.

"It's not like I had a choice," Draco snorted and rolled his eyes, his gaze still fixed on Teddy, who looked like he was admiring his own work with the Christmas ornament. "He just trotted out of the fireplace, like he always does, and demanded my attention and that we'd buy a tree."

"And you did that?" Harry stared at him in disbelief, but he was warming inside.

"Yes. It wasn't as horrible spending time with him as I thought it would be." Draco shrugged, sounding disinterested, but Harry noticed a small tug at the corners of his mouth.

"He helped you willingly? I mean, this place is spotless. It must have taken hours."

Draco gave him a sideways look that clearly said that hours was definitely an understatement.

"I might have had to bribe him," he said then, unable to keep the mixture between a smile and a smirk from his lips.

"With what?" Harry asked, just as Teddy seemed to notice that he was there. Draco only smirked as the boy squealed and darted across the room, throwing himself around Harry's midsection.

"UNCLE HARRY!" he shouted, as though his happiness was too big to be expressed with an indoor voice. "THANKS FOR THE PYGMY PUFF YOU WILL GIVE ME TOMORROW!"

Harry tried to glare at Draco as Teddy hugged him tightly, but he failed miserably as the other man shrugged in a way that clearly said: what did you expect?

"Thank you," he said instead, looking at Draco as he crouched down to hug Teddy properly. "This was a perfect Christmas gift."

"Your grandma wanted you home half an hour ago, Ted." Draco was probably the only person in the world that used Teddy's given name, and Harry wondered how long that would last. At least he didn't use the kid any more.

"See you tomorrow, uncle Harry," Teddy beamed and waved to Draco, as he bounced his way to the fireplace. A second later, he was gone and Harry straightened hastily, almost feeling the atmosphere in the room change around them. It was suddenly buzzing like electricity, charged with something Harry couldn't quite put his finger on, but it made his palms sweaty and his fingertips tingle.

Draco inched forward, pressing him up with his back against the doorpost. Harry licked his lips nervously, noticing how the other man's gaze followed his action and started to fiddle with his coat, unsure where to put his hands.

And then, for a fraction of a second, their eyes met, and Draco took another step closer, pressing their bodies together. Harry could feel the other man's breath ghost over his own skin and wondered if this was really happening, or if he actually was completely nuts. But then Draco smiled, as if he knew exactly what Harry was thinking.

"Mistletoe," he breathed and, just as Harry glanced up, automatically checking if there really was one, Draco's lips found his.

For a moment, it felt like all the air was sucked out of him, and the world started spinning rapidly, until he finally managed to close his eyes. Draco's lips moved slowly against his, over and over, until Harry snapped out of his shock and responded to the kiss. When he did, Draco made a small, fantastic sound and grabbed Harry's coat, pulling him closer.

And then, Draco's tongue explored his lips and soft hands somehow managed to get underneath his too many layers of clothing. Harry wasn't even sure whose sounds that filled the moments between ragged breaths were, or exactly how he managed to make his way from the living room doorway to be pushed against the kitchen counter.

He groaned when Draco pressed their bodies together, feeling as though the air was forced out of his lungs again, as he felt the other man's erection against his own.

"Oh God," he breathed, more to himself than anything, when a determined hand zipped down his trousers and lips found his earlobe. His thoughts were almost as incoherent as his words, when Draco stroked down the length of his dick, the rest of his body quivering with need.

Then Harry's eyes snapped open as the sound from floo transfer rushed through the house. Draco had stopped moving too, his breaths quick and shallow against the damp skin on Harry's throat.

"Uncle Harry!" Teddy shouted, and his loud footsteps over the floorboards in the living room caused Harry's heart to pound almost painfully. He was just about to push Draco away and pull his trousers back up, when the boy continued: "I just forgot my tree. See you tomorrow! Bye!"

And then he was gone with the same, sudden sound of flames in the fireplace. Harry groaned in relief, as his head tipped back, bumping uncomfortably against the top cabinet behind him.

"You really need to set up wards," Draco said quietly, as his lips found an extremely sensitive spot just below his ear that Harry didn't even know that he had.

"Yes." Harry nodded and groaned again, this time for a completely different reason, as Draco's hand started moving again.

If it was the sudden interruption or because of the fact that Harry just now completely understood what was really happening – There. In his kitchen. With Draco – Harry wasn't sure, but it didn't take many firm strokes before he was panting, thrusting up in Draco's hand and probably begging in a very non-Gryffindor manner. Not that he cared, because only moments later, he arched against Draco, unable to contain the low groan that pushed through him as he came.

He was still shuddering slightly when Draco's lips found his, and a cleaning spell whispered over his skin, before his trousers were zipped up again. Almost reluctantly, he opened his eyes, afraid to find the other man on his way out, but instead he was met by a very pleased smirk.

"Sorry," he mumbled and closed his eyes again, feeling stupid as he realised that he had completely forgotten about Draco. God, he was such an idiot.

"You don't look very sorry," the other man pointed out, sounding pleased with himself.

Harry opened one eye. Draco was still smirking, but he was still standing close, his hands resting on the waistband of Harry's trousers. Perhaps he hadn't made a complete fool out of himself.

"I'll make it up to you," he promised, hoping that he really would get a chance to. "I just have to catch my breath."

"You'll have plenty of time for that," Draco said and his smirk softened somewhat when Harry frowned. "You invited me to a charity concert, remember?"

Oh, right.

"I thought you didn't remember," he explained sheepishly.

"You thought wrong." Draco smiled. It was one of those smiles that made Harry's insides turn warm and liquid. "You should change your shirt before we go."

A while later, they were standing in the crowd at the piazza in Diagon Alley, holding a cup of hot chocolate each. Celestina Warbeck wasn't Harry's favourite singer in the world. She was probably closer to the bottom of his list than the top, but standing so close to Draco, sharing a moment in the world outside Grimmauld Place, made the evening incredible. A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love sounded almost good to Harry's ears, as Draco turned to him with a smile in his eyes that didn't quite reach his mouth.

"I forgot to tell you. Ted left you a gift, too."

"He did?"

"Yes. It's most likely an awful drawing that you have to frame and put on a wall where everyone can see it." Draco's tone was harsh, but his smile had spread to his lips as Harry laughed, figuring that it was probably true.

"I have a gift too," Draco said suddenly, his tone causing Harry to look away from Celestina's dancing gnomes on stage again.

"You have?" he asked, his heart fluttering.

"I finished my book." The other man took a sip of his hot chocolate, carefully ignoring Harry's gaze.

"Oh," Harry managed at last and looked down at his cup. There was too much cream.

"I didn't have much of a choice, since you declared that you're not my House-Elf."

Harry thought he saw Draco shrug out of the corner of his eye. God, he regretted that conversation more than anything now.

"I didn't mean..." he started, but trailed off as he realised that he had no idea what to say. "I don't want you to leave," he mumbled then, grateful that the way the cold pinched his cheeks concealed his blush.

"I'm not leaving," Draco snorted, sounding as though Harry had just said that Neville Longbottom was the best Quidditch player Hogwarts ever had.

He looked up quickly and found Draco smirking at him. His heart began to pound behind his ribs as the other man's words repeated themselves in his ears.

"You're not leaving?" he asked, knowing that he was staring at Draco in a perhaps embarrassing way, but he didn't care. The other man was just about to answer when someone collided with Harry's arm, causing the cup in his hand to bump against his face. He barely escaped having his nose scolded by hot chocolate, but the too-much cream probably covered a good part of his face.

Draco laughed as Harry fought to wipe it off with the sleeve of his coat. He was too afraid to look up, convinced that people were looking at them now.

"Clean?" he asked, after a moment, just as the other man managed to control his laughter.

"No," Draco said, looking like he was about to start all over again. "You missed some," he added then and closed the distance between them, connecting their lips just as Celestina Warbeck sang the last note of You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me.

Harry wasn't even aware of that his eyes had fallen shut, until Draco broke the kiss with a low: "There."

When Harry opened his eyes again, his heart twisted in his chest as warm fingers intertwined with his. He squeezed around them gently, making sure that they were really there.

"I'm not leaving," Draco said quietly, smiling softly as though he could hear Harry's rapid heartbeat just as loud in his own ears as it was in Harry's.

And then their lips met once more, even though Harry was smiling too widely to be able to do it properly. He didn't even care that more people in the crowd stared at them than paid attention to Celestina Warbeck, or that Ron never would let this go.

"Merry Christmas, Harry," Draco whispered between their kisses.

"Merry Christmas."

And that was the first, but definitely not the last time, Draco called him by his first name.

Story end notes: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR, PEOPLE!