DEC 12, Harry Potter, More than a Legend H/D (4/6)
Sorry for the long wait between postings. Work, kids, holiday, you know what I mean, they all conspired against me. :)
Title: More than a Legend Prompts: Angels Author:roma_fics Fandom: Harry Potter Characters: Harry/Draco Rating: R Word total: 2580 Warning(s): No Grinches Allowed Summary: Harry volunteers to be Father Christmas, without truly understanding what it entails. Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe – all recognisable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work. Beta: The most awesome eeyore9990
More than a Legend Part 4
A slow smile emerged as Draco woke on Christmas morning. He stretched into the plethora of feather pillows, his hand reaching to the side, searching for Harry. The spot was warm, but empty. Disappointment was short-lived as memories of the night before flooded his thoughts. He curled up with the down comforter, feeling decadent that his body felt so abused and so good. Not one patch of skin had been missed with kisses and touches. His fingers traced up his chest, enhancing the memory. Deck the Halls, he hummed until finger pads reached his ears…his pointed ears. He bolted upright.
There was no response. He shook his head and looked around. The elves had gone further overboard. Boughs of holly and ivy spiralled up the bedposts. His wreath of mistletoe, heavy with berries, hung from the chandelier. Oh, wait, Harry did that when they came home. The fairies were waking up and chattering from the Christmas tree. The tree skirt was hidden by piles of presents; a single one rested on the bottom of the bed. He jumped as the air next to him gave a small crackle. Mugs of hot coffee with plates of bacon sandwiches and pastries appeared on the bedside table.
"I'm going to open my present!" Draco yelled, hoping Harry would hear him.
The night before had been wonderful. The best Christmas Eve he'd ever had, but things were getting out of hand. It was as if Potter really believed he was Father Christmas—or some version of him. He doubted the real Father Christmas buggered his elves. Draco snickered at the sacrilegious thought. He needed to talk to Snape.
First, though, there was that present and stockings. His eyes swept the room to the far wall where the fire was burning a huge log. Two stockings were hanging from the mantle covered in more holly and burning candles placed in a Yule log. The stockings were bulging with items. His inner child wanted to run over, grab his, and dump it on the bed. Get a hold of yourself, Malfoy, you're thirty years old, he thought to himself and, you're still a fucking elf. And where the hell is Potter?
Draco leant over and slid the gift, wrapped in silver and gold ribbons, onto his lap. It was heavy. He fingered the gold tag, turning it over. Merry Christmas, Draco. All my love, Harry. Draco choked. The unspoken words that had hung between them in silence for the last year were now in writing. His thumb ran over the scribbled message. He knew he'd be saving the tag.
He slipped off the ribbon and carefully removed the paper. He squinted at the wooden box, engraved with runes he'd have to decipher when the light was stronger and his mind clearer. The latch was simple and not spelled shut as far as he could tell. He lifted the lid; a strong glow of yellow emerged, too bright to look into. He shut the box. He tried again, and the light was gone. His eyes widened at seeing a flat map of the earth. Small dots sparkled over the west coast of North America. They became fewer and fewer as they moved up the coast towards Canada and Alaska. He closed the box as the final twinkle burned low and faded away.
Draco jumped as the door opened and Harry strode in, wearing his green robes. His cheeks were red as if burned from snow. His eyes were bright and he smiled as he saw the box on Draco's lap. "Good, so you knew I'd be back soon. Now budge over so we can have breakfast and open our presents."
"What? I didn't know you'd be back soon."
Harry removed his robes, laying them over the back of chair by the hearth. Draco's eyes widened, seeing the pyjama bottoms and t-shirt he had been wearing underneath. It was far from what he'd expected.
"Where have you been?" Draco asked, moving back against the headboard. A little irritated that Harry hadn't responded to him about how he was supposed to know when Harry'd be back, Draco set the wooden box on the other bedside table.
"Doing my job, of course," Harry said and picked up a sandwich as he sat on the bed and manoeuvred next to Draco.
Draco sighed. "Couldn't Kingsley let you at least have Christmas morning off?"
"Not that job," Harry mumbled and took a large bite of the bacon butty before exchanging it for a mug of coffee. The vapours were thick and rich, not something Hogwarts usually served up. "I was thinking stockings first. They’re more personal. And, Merlin, I feel like getting personal," Harry said with a grin, and Draco knew exactly what he meant.
"I'd like to take a shower first, and maybe you should join me," Draco said, crinkling his nose. Harry leant over and kissed the tip of it. "And then, after the presents, we're going straight to the Headmistress' office to speak with Snape and Dumbledore."
"Sure," Harry responded and lifted his wand, Summoning the overstuffed red quilted stockings. They landed between them. He reached into Draco's and pulled out a square box, which without magic would have never fit. "But open this first."
Draco didn't take his time as he had with the last gift, which he still had questions about. "A snowball, Potter? What happened to me being naughty?"
Harry barked out a laugh. He lifted the snowball out of the box. "It's perfect snow, Draco. The taste is pure winter and perfect for snowmen and snow angels. Try it."
Draco was getting that uneasy feeling in his stomach again that not all was right with Harry. He appeased him, though, and took a small nip of the snowball. The miniscule frozen crystals melted on his tongue. It wasn't too icy or powdery, it was—as Harry had said—perfect. The coolness raced down his throat, leaving a tingly sensation. He took a larger bite. Harry smiled.
"I told you the snow was better up north. And I will be doing wicked things with this later tonight." Draco's eyes widened with apprehension and excitement. The latter was winning quickly as he felt his body quiver. "But first, I agree that we should shower."
"Tease," Draco said as Harry placed the partially eaten snowball back in the box.
"Aw, you know me better than that, Malfoy," Harry replied and wrapped his chilled fingers around Draco's prick.
"Bastard!" Draco yelped and hopped over the side of the bed.
Harry laughed and chased him into the bathroom.
Harry's eyes sparkled by the firelight as he dressed to meet the headmasters. He was intently watching Draco as he picked up each new toy, utensil, and bottle from his stocking and methodically ran his fingers over them.
"You like the selection?" Harry asked, knowing the answer already by Draco's expression. What he didn't expect was for Draco's shoulders to slump and his head to bow. He moved over to his side and put his arm around him. "Draco?"
Draco shook his head. "I don't deserve this," he muttered. "I've been a right bastard."
Harry released a huff. He picked up a bottle containing massage oil from Japan. The scent of cherry blossoms permeated through the stopper. "You do deserve this, all of this. I want to bring you pleasure. No more pain. Neither of us needs any more pain in our lives. When I got called to that pub in Croydon, and found you pissed to the wind and beat up beyond recognition. I knew things had to change. Not just between you and me, but for everyone."
"I was fine," Draco said with a softer tone of defiance than he usually spouted.
"Yes, you've done well. But we both know you could do better, if people weren't still so closed minded. You should be the Ministry's top accountant."
Draco shook his head again. "I'm so tired of the stares, the whispers, and most of all being ignored. Last night was wonderful." He stopped and lifted his head and turned towards Harry. "I knew they were cheering for you, but no one even tried to hex me. It was the best night of my life."
"Mine too," Harry said and gently let his lips glide over Draco's. "Let me do this. Let us indulge each other's wants and needs."
"What are your wants and needs?" Draco asked. "You seem to have nailed mine with oils, lotions, vibrators, and rings."
"My want, Draco, is to see you relaxed, knowing I can make you relaxed. I loved seeing you in the tunic. You look carefree and open to my advances. I don't want to have to guess anymore. No more walls."
Draco lifted his hand and let it drift down the green robe's fur trim along Harry's chest. The corners of his mouth lifted. His other hand reached for Harry's hand, leading it to his prick. "You just want me ready and willing for whenever the mood strikes you."
Harry gave a not-so-gentle squeeze. "And that is a bad thing?"
Grey eyes narrowed.
"Don't think you have to protest, Draco. You're the one who controls my desires." He pulled him in tighter. The feeling of the thin tunic and Draco's still damp body from the shower was seducing him into wanting to forgo the conversation with the portraits. "You know I'd never hurt you, ever," he whispered into Draco's pointed ear.
Draco's head fell onto Harry's shoulder. "I know. You of all people know that I couldn't handle that kind of pain."
"I'm not surprised that you would drink something you knew nothing about, Potter."
"Draco and the Headmistress said it was fine."
"It could have been some Death Eater's beard," Severus Snape said with an exaggerated sigh.
"Now, Severus, berating Harry will not unravel this mystery. Maybe you could explain to the boys where you found this treasure."
Snape groaned. His dark eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. "I didn't find it," he said after a long pause. "The Dark Lord gave it to me. I didn't ask how he came to be in possession of such a relic. He didn't believe in Father Christmas, but he perceived there was great magic at work and not of the Dark kind."
"Did he take the potion?" Draco asked.
Dumbledore's eyes brightened as did Harry's. The both tried to conceal a laugh.
"No, Draco. I surmised that he was not in favour of feeling jolly."
"So he did believe that it might work?" Harry asked.
"I believe that is what I just said, Potter."
"No, sir, you…ouch!" Harry stopped and glared at Draco, whose fingers were digging into his elbow.
"Can you postulate why the potion has not worn off, sir?" Draco asked.
"No, but I'm sure it has to do with Potter. It always does," Snape said, glaring at Harry.
"Ah, I believe I can answer that question," Dumbledore said. "If I'm not mistaken, today is Christmas, which means the potion should probably wear off by tomorrow."
"Good!" Draco burst out. "No more pointy ears."
Harry looked crestfallen.
"Harry, is there something you'd like to share?" Dumbledore said. Draco glanced at Harry and noticed his sullen demeanour.
"I—I kind of like this feeling. I liked being Father Christmas last night and this morning. You should've seen the letters, plates of food, and drinks the kids left for me. So many asked for so little. And there are so many lonely adults."
Draco and the two wizards in the portraits looked at Harry in shock.
"You—you were delivering presents last night? You—travelled around the world? Is that what that box meant?" Draco asked, his voice trembling. "You—you really think there is a Father Christmas and you're it?"
"Yes, of course. I drank the potion, remember?"
"Yes, yes, but—but...." Draco couldn't talk, words were failing him.
Dumbledore chuckled. "I believe Mr Malfoy didn't quite believe it was truly Father Christmas but a nice old wizard's beard that had pretended to be the legend. A tradition passed down."
"And, Harry, my dear boy, you believe what you drank contained ingredients from the prior Father Christmas and that he really was the legendary Father Christmas?"
Dumbledore brought his hand to his long beard and stroked it, seemingly in deep thought. They all stood in silence, none of them able to look at the other. Dumbledore finally broke the silence. "From what I see and what I've been told, I think it's more of a spirit than one wizard. Now, Draco, you mentioned Harry's robes changed colour from red to green and that holly appeared on the trim."
"And that he said a spell and altered my potion. I became part elf or whatever I'm supposed to be."
Harry smiled. "And I put him in a tunic. It just seemed right."
"Where did you find this box Draco mentioned?" Snape asked, staring at Harry.
Harry stared back. "I can't say."
Draco grabbed Harry by the upper arm and spun him around to look at him. "What do you mean, you can't say?"
Harry's eyes shifted towards the portraits and he jerked his head.
Immediately, a Muffliato spell was cast by Draco. "You don't want them to know, but you'll share it with me?"
"Yes. I got it from the home Father Christmas lives in. It's in Lapland."
Draco's eyes rolled back, his knees began to falter. Harry reached out and steadied him.
"But—but," Draco mumbled. "Oh my God, Potter, you really are him."
Harry laughed heartily. "Yes, Draco, I am and you are my helper. I didn't want a Mrs."
"Ahem. Excuse me gentlemen, but I think I might have something else to say," Dumbledore said, drawing their attention back to him. Draco removed the spell. "There, that's better. Severus and I were just discussing the situation and it appears, Harry, that you've taken bits and pieces of many different versions of Father Christmas. Maybe even back to the very origins of celebrating Winter Solstice. The writings say a minor god dressed in green garb and holly was an important component. He was the bringer of sunlight and brought joy and hope to those he visited."
"But the presents, the travelling around the world, me an elf? I'm not a servant!" Draco spouted.
Dumbledore and Harry snickered. "More evidence of mixing of times, era, and traditions," Dumbledore said. "In Roman times, Saturnalia was the large winter festival. And role playing was quite popular. Masters became slaves; slaves became masters for a few days. And the only slaves that remain today in our world are house-elves."
Draco stomped his foot. "I am not a house-elf!"
Snape cleared his throat. "No, you're not, but I would say you would fit into that era given your limited attire."
Harry bit his lower lip as blotches of red made their way up Draco's neck to his cheeks.
"Harry," Dumbledore said. "I think you should bring Draco to the place you found the box. My guess is the home holds more answers than either Severus or I can give."
Harry's smile was wide. He lifted his wand, pointing it at Draco. Once again, thick white robes and mistletoe appeared. He put his arm around Draco's shoulder, and they were gone with a crack.
"He really shouldn't be able to do that," Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black sneered.