A/N: Hi guys! I know it's been a while. I won't lie, I've been blanking on what to do with this couple for a long time, but Christmas always offers inspiration. : ) You guys are absolutely amazing, and I couldn't help but give you a chapter that I hope will help make it a merry Christmas (or Hanukkah, or Kwanza, or any other holiday or non-holiday, whatever you happen to celebrate).

I wanted to write a story where Percy is being cute and a little silly. I know he has a fun side in there somewhere! I hope you guys like it as much as I liked writing it.

Also: If any of the italics are running together, that is not intentional. I had a problem with that recently, so if that happens, please let me know. Thanks!

3. He Loves Christmas – a Lot.

Oliver hadn't come from a religious family. They gave each other small gifts on Christmas, but it was like most other days to him, hardly on his radar aside from the elaborate decorations and slightly grating music.

Which is why, a week before his first Christmas living with Percy, he was stunned to find his apartment packed to the brim with evergreen branches, twinkling lights, and fat little snowmen.

"Perce?" His duffel bag fell to the floor with a thump. He stared, open-mouthed, at the veritable garden of poinsettias that had sprung up on his kitchen counters. "Why does it look like we robbed Santa Claus?"

"Yes, yes, very funny, Oliver." Percy poked his head into the kitchen from his living room. "Would you mind helping me?"

"With what? Cleaning up after a reindeer?" When he didn't get an answer, he felt himself begin to panic. "You didn't get a reindeer, did you?"

Percy rolled his eyes. "Please. Reindeer would need much more space than this." He grabbed Oliver's hand and tugged him insistently into the living room.

"How do you know that?" Oliver asked, frowning. A second later, his jaw had dropped. "Percy… What in God's name is that?"

"It's a Christmas tree, Oliver. What else would it be?"

"That's not a Christmas tree!" Oliver jabbed a finger at the hulking pine monstrosity before him. "That's an entire bloody forest! Where did you even find that thing? Did Hagrid grow it for you?"

"I found it at a lot. It's a perfectly acceptable Christmas tree." Percy shoved a star into Oliver's hands. "Would you mind putting this on top for me? I'm going to go scare up more decorations."

Oliver stared. The tree was already sagging beneath great glass orbs of red, gold, and white. Twinkling white lights peaked out from behind nearly every needle. Glittering magical snow littered the branches. Red bows had been meticulously tied on in an orderly pattern. "You have more? How many?"

Percy shrugged. "A box or two."

"I don't think they'll fit, love." He was frankly amazed that the rest weren't already falling off.

"Of course they will." Percy pecked Oliver on the cheek with a smile. "I'll be back in a minute."

As it turned out, Percy's boxes were more like barrels. By the time he was done with the tree, not a speck of green needle could be seen. He seemed perfectly content to let Oliver sit and watch him in stunned silence as he flitted around, adding more and more decorations until their flat had been transformed into a demented Santa's workshop. When Oliver closed his eyes, he saw red and green.

Percy finally collapsed by him on the couch with a satisfied sigh, sipping at a glass of eggnog and admiring his work. "It looks rather nice, doesn't it?" he asked happily, curling up beside his boyfriend.

"Yeah." Oliver didn't know what else he could say. After Percy had taken a vacation day off work (Percy took a day off work – he could hardly imagine) just to decorate, he felt it wouldn't be tactful to tell him that he found Christmas elves a bit creepy and the lights absolutely garish. The mountain of presents beneath the tree had been wrapped so meticulously and beautifully that he couldn't imagine opening them. (In fact, the only thing he could think while looking at them was that he needed to buy Percy something much bigger than the daily planner he had gotten him.)

Percy glanced at him and, for the first time that day, frowned. "Is something wrong, Ol?"

"No, of course not!" Oliver tried to grin, instantly overcome by a sense of guilt. He hated that he might have wrecked Percy's excellent mood. "No, the place looks… great."

That tiny hesitation was all it took. Percy set his glass down on a coaster and turned to him, concerned. "What is it?"

"It's just that…" Oliver sighed. "Don't you think this is a bit much, Perce?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean look around! There were at least three dancing Santas in the hallway alone. There's so much glitter on everything I think I might be going blind. It's just strange that a grown man would want to live in something so cheesy."

Percy looked around the room, a blush slowly creeping over his face. "I-I suppose you're right," he mumbled, sinking down in his seat. "It looks rather ridiculous, doesn't it?"

"Not ridiculous." Oliver hadn't imagined that he would take it so hard. He put an arm around his shoulders, but Percy shrugged him off.

"It's fine." Percy smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You don't like it. I can take it down."

"You don't have to," Oliver began with a grimace, but Percy shook his head.

"It's fine, Oliver. I'll take it down tomorrow when I get home from work." He planted a kiss on Oliver's temple and shuffled out of the room like a wounded puppy.

Oliver groaned, slumping to rest his head in his hands. Congratulations, Ol, he thought bitterly. You've broken his spirit. It wasn't often that he got to see Percy light up the way he had when he'd been decorating. He just couldn't understand why Percy – reserved, uptight Percy, of all people – would be so fanatical over a holiday. Even the most religious people Oliver knew didn't have as many baby Jesus figures as he'd seen strewn about their flat that day.

It didn't change the fact that Percy had looked miserable when Oliver criticized it.

"Percy?" He knocked gingerly on their bedroom door and slowly pushed it open. "You okay?"

Percy jumped and looked up with the painfully false smile. "Of course! I'm fine."

"You're not." Oliver sat beside him, careful not to touch him. Percy could be like a scared rabbit when he was embarrassed, and he didn't want to scare him away. "C'mon, love. Please. Tell me."

Percy dropped his head, intent on his feet. He grabbed a small, wrapped candy cane from the dresser and began breaking it apart. "I suppose I don't really know. I just miss it all, I suppose."

"Miss what?"

"A real Christmas." Percy smiled sadly. "Hogwarts was always so bright and beautiful and festive around this time of year, and I loved it. People were just so much better. Sometimes I felt like that was the only time of year that…" He trailed off, cheeks pink.

"What?" Oliver placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You know you can tell me. You can tell me anything."

Percy took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, steeling himself. "Sometimes I felt like that was the only time of year that people treated me like a real person."

Oliver felt a pang deep in his chest, and he pulled Percy to him. "Oh, Perce."

"I know that probably sounds stupid, but it's true." Percy tossed the thoroughly crushed candy cane on the nightstand. "People didn't laugh at me quite as much at Christmas. They didn't steal my things or call me names. Even Fred and George were almost pleasant. It was a nice change of pace."

Oliver frowned. "You didn't tell me people did that."

"Did what?"

"Take your stuff or call you names."

Percy snorted. "I'm sure you heard your share of the names, Oliver."

Oliver shrugged. The pang in his heart had turned into a spark of rage. How could anyone do something to cruel to another human being? Especially one who was so bright and driven, someone who was uniquely sweet and unwaveringly fair? "I knew Fred and George picked on you a bit, but I didn't realize other people did."

"It was behind my back, for the most part. And no one would dare say it to you." Percy looked up at him, laying his head against Oliver's shoulder. "They knew that you would be upset."

"Of course I would! They have no right –"

"I know, Ol," Percy chuckled. "Believe me, I do. And I appreciate that so much."

They sat in silence for a few moments. The only sound was the fire crackling in the fireplace. Finally, Percy whispered, almost as if it were a secret, "It wasn't just at Hogwarts. Christmas was always better at home, too."

Oliver nodded. Percy rarely spoke about his family since he'd left the Burrow a little over six months before, but Oliver knew he missed them. Despite what people might have thought, Percy had feelings. He missed his parents and siblings. He missed his home. He was just too stubborn to admit that he wanted to go back.

"That was the only time I really got to spend with my parents," Percy said. "None of my siblings were all too interested in Christmas apart from receiving gifts, and my mother was often too busy preparing food and gifts to pay much attention to anything else, but I always helped my father. We would decorate and talk. I loved it. We had more in common than you would think." He laughed. "I actually find batteries quite interesting, truth be told."

Oliver grinned. "That's a bit sad, love."

"I know." Percy curled into Oliver's side. "Now that we're not speaking, however, I have no one to do any of that with. I still love Christmas. I love decorating and cooking and all of that. But I really do miss having someone to do that with."

Oliver wrapped both arms around his boyfriend, burying his nose in his fiery hair. "You do have someone, love. You have me."

"I know that you're not a huge fan of the holidays, Oliver. It's alright."

"It's not." Oliver put a finger beneath Percy's chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. "I love you, Percy. And if something is important to you, it's going to be important to me. That's all there is to it."

Percy's eyes seemed overly bright, but he pressed his lips against Oliver's in a hard, determined kiss. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

"You have."

Percy shifted into Oliver's lap. "Can I say something that might sound a bit, well, stupid?"

"You never sound stupid."

Percy rolled his eyes, but said, "I suppose being alone on Christmas makes me feel a bit rejected. I know that leaving home was my decision, but… I never felt like I fit in there. I never felt like they really wanted me there, except for the holidays. Now that I'm not there for Christmas, it makes me realize how little I really mattered to them."

Oliver hugged Percy tightly. He hoped his lover couldn't see the tears welling in his eyes. "Well bullocks to them, then," he growled. "They're just too stupid to realize what you're worth."

All of the tension and stress left Percy's body, and he kissed Oliver again with a smile on his lips. "I love you so much, Ol."

"Right back at you, Perce."

On Christmas Eve, while Percy was busy preparing dinner, Oliver saw an owl hovering outside their living room window. He opened it and the owl – old and bedraggled – collapsed to the floor with a parcel addressed to Percy. After offering the poor bird a bowl of water, Oliver opened the package. Inside was a plain blue sweater, just a shade darker than Percy's eyes.

He recognized it instantly – the annual Weasley sweater. He clutched it hard, and his cheeks burned.

A sweater. A bloody sweater. Their son had been gone over six months, and the only thought they could spare for him was to send him one of the ugly, uninspired sweaters that they gave all of their children every year. To them, Percy wasn't special. He wasn't interesting and fun and brilliant. He was just one of the carbon copies that they had brought into the world and felt forced to care for. They couldn't pay enough attention to him to even consider giving him something that he could enjoy, or that would show that they even knew a single thing about him.

Oliver sloppily rewrapped the package and, once Errol had recuperated a bit, sent it back into the night.

"What was that, Oliver?" Percy called from the kitchen. "Did we get an owl?"

Oliver watched the owl struggle through the night sky. "No. It was nothing, love."

Percy appeared, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "Well, then, dinner's ready." He pecked Oliver on the cheek. "Does ham, potatoes, and pudding sound alright?"

Oliver smiled. "It sounds perfect, Perce." He pulled the redhead into a hug. "Just like you."

A/N: Please R&R, and have a very merry Christmas!