Title: Snow

Author: Ida

Pairing: H/D

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Romance

Summary: Holiday fluff. A series of shorts all set in the snow

Warnings: super! Fluff, implied sex

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. It's all the property of J.K Rowling, and this story is being written for entertainment purposes only. Not a dime is being made.

Itwas snowing. Draco pulled his cloak tightly around his skinny frame and smiled as the snowflakes kissed his cheeks, whispering promises into the shell of his ear as they melted against his delicate flesh. He looked around and sighed. This was his first Christmas away from home: his first Christmas alone. He'd put on an excellent front while watching his friends pack up and leave for the holidays. Everyone has been so cheerful; he hadn't wanted to spoil it for them with a dour face.

His façade would have done his father proud.

Unfortunately for Draco, his father was being held in Azkaban prison awaiting the Dementor's Kiss, and his mother…

Well, his mother didn't know who he was anymore. Every time Draco tried to visit her at St. Mungo's, she would do one of two things: either stare at him blankly for the duration of his visit and not make a sound or move a muscle or start screaming like a banshee while pointing at him wildly as she tried to escape the confines of the visitation room.

As such, Draco had decided not to visit her that week. The decision had torn at his heart, but ultimately, he'd realized that he simply couldn't handle her at this time of year. He couldn't handle the simpering cheer of the Great Hall either, with its twinkling lights and fake homey warmth. A surprising number of students didn't have anywhere else to go for the Holiday season, a byproduct of the recently ended war. Despite the rather large number of bodies crowded into the Great Hall, it still felt empty.

Lonely.

Besides, this was a good opportunity to stand around in the cold and feel sorry for himself, something Draco was best at. Still, even his favorite pastime was leaving him feeling hollow and rather unwanted. He'd hoped against hope that one person might stay and keep him company over Christmas, but even that one person had abandoned him. He sighed again, more deeply this time, and turned to trudge back up the hill to the school. If he was lucky, he'd make it back to the dungeons before dinner let out, and then he wouldn't have to deal with any cheery smiles or goofy laughter. His first step back towards Hogwarts forced him into a wool covered, muscled wall, and he would have stumbled back into the snow if two familiar wool clad arms hadn't snaked out to catch him around the waste. Two deep breaths and a calmed heart rate later, Draco relaxed into the embrace and allowed relief to soar through him.

He didn't have to be alone after all. "Hold me closer," he whispered against his friend's chest, clutching to the well-worn wool cloak in desperation. Those strong arms wrapped more tightly around him, creating a shield against the outside world and protecting him from the bitter cold that had somehow wormed its way into his heart. With each huff of warm air the wafted through his hair, the ice began to melt inside him. "I thought you were spending Christmas with the Weasley's."

"Hmmm," came the non committal response, and Draco automatically clung even tighter.

"Did you come back just for me?" It was a mere whisper, but it carried with it all his fear and fragile insecurities. He leaned up, his eyes taking in the small expanse of skin behind one chapped ear and the wisps of sable hair that couldn't decide if they wanted to cover the exposed flesh or dance in the gentle breeze.

His friend looked down and smiled that tender smile that was for Draco and Draco alone. His emerald eyes were sparkling with joy and unrestrained gentle love. "Yes," he said softly, before capturing Draco's lips in their first magical kiss.

xxxx

The ground was covered in fluffy, sticky snow: the perfect blend for snow people. Neville Longbottom had built and entire army worth of them down by the lake, each with twig-wands drawn and ready for battle against the evil Mer-people that hadn't a chance against the thick layer of ice that covered and separated their aquatic home from Neville's beach.

But Longbottom didn't know that. Or at least, he hadn't realized it yet.

Draco scoffed at the silly Gryffindor and went back to his own project: a snow serpent. It was ten feet long and it slithered along the ground in the most intoxicating snow serpent fashion. If snow could move, his beauty would be a beauty, he was sure of it. He was suffering from a serious dilemma, however.

He'd lost another mitten.

He couldn't very well continue to sculpt cold snow with his bare hands, but this was the second mitten that he'd lost. Harry wouldn't be very happy to learn he'd misplaced another. Draco had tried numerous heating charms on his hands to keep them warm, but they had the disadvantage of melting his snowy creation whenever he touched it, and that simply would not do. Sighing, he resigned himself to cold hands. There was no way he was going to leave his project uncompleted.

Thirty minutes later, with trembling hands and frozen joints, he smiled down proudly at his serpent. It had scaly detail and everything. Now if only he could coax creepy Creevy into taking a picture of it to immortalize it forever. He winced as he looked down at his hands, gaping in shock at his reddened, stiff fingers. They really hurt!

He looked around for his boyfriend, knowing somehow that Harry would know how to make it better. He spotted the dark-haired Gryffindor out on the ice that Neville was still trying to barricade, playing some bizarre muggle game on something called an ice skate. He'd tried to coax Draco out onto the ice, but Draco had taken one look at the skeevy looking boots with the sharp blades, then another at Blaise Zabini slipping all over the place and realized one harsh trust: two seconds on that ice in those skates and he'd fall hard on his arse.

His arse was far too pretty for abuse like that, and besides, there was no way he was going to embarrass himself trying it out. It didn't help that his boyfriend was grace personified, not to mention good at everything he tried to do. Biting his lip, Draco trudged down to the makeshift "ice rink" that the boys had built for their "hockey" game. Weasley was doing a decent job as keeper, and Draco felt a surge of jealousy that even the walking klutz had somehow managed just fine on the skeevy skate things. He broke himself a path through Neville's soldiers, fighting back a grin as Neville shrieked in protest behind him. Finally, when he was almost out of breath from trudging through the knee deep snow, he made it to the edge of the ice. He waited only a moment for there to be a pause in the little game before calling out to his boyfriend. "Harry!"

Harry Potter stopped on a dime and looked over his shoulder to where his beautiful angel was calling him. He smiled widely and waved, and seeing the urgent look on his boyfriend's face, skated over to see what the problem was. "What is it baby?"

Draco pouted and held up his frozen digits. "My hands are cold, Harry."

Harry gaped at Draco's reddened flesh, and without hesitation pulled off his own thick hockey gloves to take the tender fingers into his own warm hands. "It looks like frost bite, angel. Where in Merlin's name are your mittens?"

Draco blushed. "I lost them," he said sheepishly.

Harry chuckled. "Baby, I'm going to have to get you some idiot strings."

Draco looked offended, but Harry cut his protests off with a kiss. The taller boy massaged his fingers gently, rolling them in his Quidditch toned hands. "We should go inside and get you warmed up, before this gets worse than it is. Here," he slipped his oversized gloves onto Draco's hands. "Keep these on until we get inside."

Draco bit his lip. "They're too big."

Harry chuckled while he spelled his skates off and his boots back on. "They'll do for a few minutes. Did you finish your snowman?"

Draco scoffed. "Longbottom built snowmen. I built a snow serpent."

Harry laughed heartily and slipped and arm around Draco's slim waist. "Shall we go see it then? I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of seeing a snow serpent."

Draco beamed. "It's really cool!"

And indeed it was. Harry even talked to it, which made Draco squirm in his arms. "I . "

"What did you say?" Draco asked, more than a hint of aroused pink shining through the cold winter glow of his cheeks.

"I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you." Harry said solemnly. Draco hit him first with his fist, and then with a snowball. Harry arched an eyebrow. "Now that was naughty of you, wasn't it?"

Draco giggled. "Want to punish me, Harry?" He winked saucily at his boyfriend and shrieked when Harry stalked towards him. "Catch me if you can!" Harry caught him of course, but only after the Slytherin had given him a run for his money.

Later, tucked under a fuzzy blanket in the Gryffindor Common Room, the two lounged in front of a hearty fire. Harry hadn't punished him, but he had tenderly kissed every inch of skin on Draco's swollen hands, and then had lovingly applied a salve Madame Pomfrey had recommended to heal the tissue. Now, Harry carded his fingers through Draco's hair gently, and listened to the rhythmic sound of the blonde's soft breathing as he dozed against Harry's chest. "I love you, Draco."

Draco's heart stopped beating, only for a moment, and he sat up to look into the eyes that he'd come to adore over the past months. It was the first time Harry had ever said it. Draco blushed and smiled shyly. "I love you too, Harry."

xxxx

It had started out as a heavy make out session on the edge of the forbidden forest. Hot breath on his neck, followed by an even hotter tongue. He'd never wanted it to stop; never wanted Harry's rough hands to leave his body, to stop touching him, making him feel to needed, so wanted… Practicality had eventually won him over however, when he'd felt the icy ground and its snowy blanket against the bare flesh of his back. He'd whimpered softly against the cold, and then shrieked when his discomfort had become more noticeable. Harry, gentleman that he was, had gathered him up in his arms and carried him back to the castle.

"I need you." Draco whimpered softly into his lover's sable hair, Harry's declaration sending heat racing into his stomach. He whined again and arched his back sharply when Harry touched him in that special place. Those rough hands were on him again, and he'd never felt so sexy or desirable as he did now beneath his boyfriend.

The wind howled fiercely outside the nearby window, and out of the corner of his eye Draco could make out the heavy snowflakes that were fluttering about on their way to blanket the Earth in a fresh new coat. But none of that was important now. What was important was the boy moving above him causing wave after wave of pleasure to cut through the chains of bitter solitude that he'd cloaked himself in all his life. Harry steadied him, anchored him, and allowed him to soar. His lover's jade orbs never left his own, and each movement of Harry inside of him caused him to shudder with an ecstasy so primal he thought he would burst open. He clutched Harry's shoulders and cried out in passion, eager to spill his pleasure vocally, to share this thing he was experiencing with his lover and make sure he knew .

Afterwards, spent, Draco lay in the protective circle of Harry's arms, contented by the sound of his lover's steady heartbeat, pulsing slowly while he slept. This was their first time, and even though it had started with teasing, embarrassment and fumbling, it had ended more perfectly that Draco had ever dreamed. He smiled wistfully and stared out at the falling snow, barely visible in the waning moonlight. Despite the chilly weather, he was warm again.

xxxx