Intimately Close

A Very Merry Christmas

Waking up in each other's arms was quickly becoming a habit.

It was also yet another thing they could fight over.

Draco quite liked it when they slept facing each other, only loosely wrapped together.

Harry had decided he hated being a little spoon, after fighting with an unconscious Malfoy over whether the suffocating heat of blankets was necessary.

"Everyone wants to be a little spoon!" Draco huffed, smoothing out any creases from his best shirt.

"Being little spoon sucks! Its hot and sweaty and cramped, and that arm you throw over my waist? It turns into a hippogriff collapsing onto you in two minutes. Two minutes, Malfoy." He dragged a hoodie over his head, knowing full-well he'd replace it with a Weasley jumper the minute he opened his gifts. "Big spoon? Its divine. It's the perfect balance of warmth and pressure and fuck your shampoo smells amazing, okay? Also, having someone breathing down your neck is not peaceful."

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Potter. Just say you want to top and move on. We're going to be late for breakfast."

"YOU CAN'T BE LATE FOR BREAKFAST. THERE'S NO SET TIME FOR BREAKFAST."

"Don't be a slob, Potter. There's always a proper time for breakfast."

***

They weren't the first down, which surprised Harry.

Mrs Weasley was bustling round the kitchen - preparing lunch and breakfast at the same time as sorting the post into piles.

"Morning, Molly." Draco greeted, grabbing the bowl of fruit and placing it at his end of the table.

"Morning, Draco, Harry. How did you sleep?" She had a strange look in her eye that told Draco he would soon regret it, but Harry was already answering.

"Great. Still not quite used to being in the attic, though."

And Draco thought they were in the clear, until Ron came hurtling into the kitchen, stopped in his tracks at the sight of the two, and broke out into a wide grin.

"Mornin'," he turned to holler up the stairs, "LOOKS LIKE THE LOVE BIRDS ARE ALREADY UP, MIONE!"

When he turned back, Draco was certain he'd turned bright red. Harry seemed frozen, his face void of emotion, as he watched his best friend seat himself at the table.

"What?" Draco murmured, not sure if he dared ask.

"Yeah, Ginny told us," Ron said around a mouthful of toast. "She went to see you last night about something, came back saying you'd worked things out."

Draco fell into his chair, uncertain of what Ginny had found and certain he didn't want to talk about it.

"Ron! I told you not to say anything!" Molly cried, battling her son and a pan of bacon at the same moment. "They'll talk when they're ready."

"Oh, come on," Ginny said as she entered the room, quickly followed by Hermione and Fleur. "How long has it taken them to talk to each other? You'd be dead before they told anyone else."

Draco was quickly deciding he wanted to be anywhere other than this table. But Harry was on one side of him, Fleur on the other. He was boxed in.

He sunk down in his chair, hoping nobody would notice.

Harry had buried his head in his hands, looking as if he regretted not wearing the invisibility cloak.

"Just leave them be. Boys, I'm happy for you." Molly said, levitating the food over to the table. Bill and Mr Weasley quickly made their way to the table, neither seeming to know what had happened.