Chapter Text
Harry woke up alone, groaning at the sunlight pouring in. He waved his wand frantically to shut the bed hangings and used all of his energy to nudge the link open, sending plaintive waves of hideousness through it.
A hand shot through the curtains to offer him a fizzling potion. Harry took it gratefully, swallowing all of it in three gulps. He felt a sudden heave of nausea and another vicious throb in his head before the feeling subsided.
“Thanks,” Harry rasped out, relieved. “It’s safe to come in, I’m not going to sick up on you. Although you probably need to come to terms with seeing that if you’re really going to go into Healer training next year.”
“Shut it.” Draco peeked in carefully, then drew the curtains back open and sat down on the bed. “Serves you right, anyway for drinking too much.”
“I had less than Ron!” Harry said. Draco snorted.
“Yes, and everyone at the party saw how that turned out. Asking Granger to marry him while falling over and nearly wetting himself. I’m sure that’s going over well this morning.” Draco said, looking rather pleased with the thought.
“Why are you out of bed?” Harry asked. Draco was generally a deeper sleeper than he was, and since McGonagall had allowed them to re-room together back in the guest quarters, it was usually Harry who had to nag Draco out of bed.
He was still a little astonished that McGonagall had gone along with it. Harry had argued that neither of them would receive any privacy while sharing dorms — particularly after they had given a brief interview to the Quibbler about the bonding accident and their resultant relationship. People had started getting creative about sending mail through her wards, mostly because everyone knew Harry and Draco’s Houses. It had taken a couple of weeks consideration but McGonagall had finally given in. Eyeing him narrowly, she'd agreed that it might be best if people outside Hogwarts didn’t know where their living quarters. Draco claimed she’d given in out of impressed admiration for Harry’s sheer cheek at even asking.
But McGonagall, being McGonagall, had then instituted a new rule for every returning, of-age, eighth year, allowing them to move into rooms in the guest quarters if they so chose. It was a chance that most of the remaining eighth years had leapt at. So Harry and Draco's quiet refuge of the guest quarters had given way to two dozen other students, many coupled. This led to noise and more nosiness than Harry was generally okay with, as intrusions seemed to happen in their quarters frequently when he or Draco were about to be otherwise occupied.
On the plus side, it led to that much-lauded interhouse unity that McGonagall had gone on about during the beginning of the year. There was a party nearly weekend in someone's room, aided by plenty of elf-wine or Firewhiskey. People were getting along great. It may have had something to do with The Chosen One living with a Slytherin, Harry conceded to himself, but whatever worked.
Harry stretched, nudging Draco’s thigh with his foot as Draco perched on the side of the mattress. Draco’s eyes had darkened, moving over him as the sheet slid down to expose more of Harry's body, and Harry felt a little smug.
"Sorry,” Draco said, seeming to come back to himself. He addressed Harry’s question. “Packing. I’m leaving in an hour.”
“Right.” Harry scowled a little. “Why are you packing? You’ll only be gone for three days.”
He and Draco had both stayed at Hogwarts for the better part of winter holidays, as had a lot of students. Harry had plans at the Burrow for Christmas Eve, which Draco had promised to join him for, and Christmas morning. Christmas dinner would be spent at Malfoy Manor with Draco and his mother, who had taken to telling every publication that asked how delighted she was that Harry had such fine taste in men, and how their relationship was a testament to Draco’s character.
He wondered if they were going to have to have an awkward chat about the amount of interviews she’d been giving, except… Well, everything she said was true.
“I have clothes there,” Draco said. He gestured to a trunk that had been shrunk down for easy transport. “Mostly gifts for my mother.”
“Speaking of gifts…” Harry pulled his wand and Summoned a present that he’d hidden in his own trunk. It was large and square and he'd wrapped in deep blue paper that twinkled with little stars. He shoved it into Draco’s hands. “You might want to open that early.”
Draco looked down at it, a surprised little smile tilting his lips. He shrugged. “In that case…” He Summoned something from the drawer on his side of the bed and handed it to Harry.
Harry stared down at the tiny red package. “So we just open?”
“Do yours first.”
Harry grinned and tore open the paper, ignoring Draco’s irritated huff as it fell to the floor. Underneath was a small black, lacquered box with a hinged lid.
He pried it up with stiff fingers and saw a long silver chain with a flat, round, gold and silver pendant nestled inside. Harry drew it out slowly, turning the disk in his hand. On one side, there was the engraving of a holly tree that came into full bloom when he touched it, filling with golden leaves and silver berries, before resetting.
On the other side, the tree was caught up in iridescent flames, the fire shimmering as it consumed and replenished the tree, much like a phoenix. Harry stared down at it so long that it grew warm in his hand.
He felt a trickle of anxiety through the link and looked up into worried grey eyes.
“If you don’t like it…” Draco said hesitantly. Harry started laughing and Draco’s worried look changed to offense.
“No, no, I love it, I really do. It’s perfect. It’s so perfect.” He looped the chain around his neck and felt the pendant settle in the middle of his chest. “Now yours.”
Draco, unlike Harry, took his time opening the gift, gently sliding his fingers under the Spell-o-tape and unwinding the paper slowly. He stopped, staring at it with such all-encompassing shock that Harry reached over to peek at it and make sure that it still looked the same as it had before it was wrapped.
The painting depicted the small form of Draco standing at the edge of a pool, shaded with trees. He was looking down at the surface of the water, which rippled with different colors. The sky was a deep, intense blue and every so often, feathers would brush floated across the surface of the canvas, as if on a gust of wind.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Harry said awkwardly when Draco stayed silent. “I gave a Pensieve memory to the artist when I commissioned it, just a few seconds worth so he’d know what I wanted it to look like. I had him add you in, after.”
Draco carefully placed the painting on the floor on its side. He turned to Harry, eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“You got me something that shows me…”
“Where you keep your magic, yeah.” Harry smiled crookedly. “And you got me the same.”
Draco leaned in and kissed him, swift and hard. “I can’t think of a gift I’ve ever gotten that I like more. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Harry echoed, his voice a little hoarse. He cleared it. “Have no idea how I’m going to top it next year, though.”
“Next year?” Draco said with an elegantly wry arch of one eyebrow. Despite that, a wave of happiness flowed through the link to settle in Harry’s chest, near where the pendant lay.
“Next year," he said firmly. "I have more for this year but I guess we’ll have to save that until we get back to Hogwarts,” he added with a leer.
Draco smirked. “We have a little time.”
“Did you know,” Harry said seriously, “that Dumbledore always told me that love was one of the strongest forms of magic?”
Draco’s smirk became a full-fledged smile. “Stop bragging about your power, Harry, it’s tacky.”
Harry snorted, disguising his pleasure at the backhanded compliment, and kissed him. Draco hummed with approval, pulling away to skim his teeth over the nerves under Harry’s jawline, nuzzling his ear and making him shiver.
“How much time do you have, really?”
“Enough,” Draco mumbled, pushing on Harry’s shoulders. “I want to try something.”
Harry went back against the pillows, heart pounding and cock twitching hard. He grinned breathlessly as Draco slithered down down his body.
Draco lifted his knees so they were propped wide open. He lowered his head with a sly smile.
And he kept going.