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New and Old Traditions

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We'll start a new tradition, Harry had said. It can be something new and exciting, Harry had added. We can be all alone, Harry had pointed out. It was the last one that had sealed it for Draco. He should have known better, because Harry had terrible ideas. They sounded great in theory, but they didn't seem to end as well as they sounded.

Draco huffed again as he cast another spell to protect his skin from the sun, not that it helped, since he was all red and blotchy from the heat, sweat covering his pale skin and sand sticking everywhere. Christmas vacations were the worst!

"What's wrong now?" Harry asked with a sigh.

"Nothing," Draco murmured.

"It's not nothing. You've been huffing and puffing since we got here. Two days in a tropical paradise and you haven't stopped-"

"What?" Draco snapped. "I haven't stopped doing what? Because I haven't said anything."

"You might as well have. You've been in a mood since we got here," Harry answered.

"Because this is awful," Draco said, exasperated. "There's sun, and heat. It's hotter than July at home, and is that reggae? Who plays Christmas songs in reggae style?"

Harry tried hard not to laugh at that. "Jamaicans? And I'd like to remind you that you picked this."

Draco sat up and pointed a finger at Harry's direction. "I did no such thing. You said cast a spell over the map and we go where it lands. I had no way to predict that we'd end up in this bloody hot nightmare of an island for Christmas. It's supposed to be cold, cloudy and with snow. Not this!"

"It doesn't snow in Wiltshire, Draco."

"It snows in Scotland," Draco said, knowing that he was being unreasonable, but heat and Christmas didn't go together.

"You realize that people would love to be here, more than love it, right? This is perfection," Harry said as he stretched on his lounger, which was not in the shade, unlike Draco's. "It's not our fault that you're so pale and are incapable of staying outside."

"I stay outside all the bloody times. In England. Because I'm English! We complain about the rain, but really it's just an excuse to have hot chocolate in front of a fire, and listen to the droplets against the glass of the window, and wear soft cashmere sweaters while hiding under thick wool blankets." Draco shook his head. "Really, Potter, how don't you understand this?"

Harry laughed. "Potter, is it? This must be serious."

"Oh, fuck you. At least have the decency to acknowledge that I'm right."

Harry snorted. "You'd be bored if I agreed. You're just waiting me to disagree so we can fight and then we can have make-up sex, and normally I have no problem with that, but tomorrow it's Christmas, and I refuse to start a fight because we're in this gorgeous place."

"Where are you going now?" Draco asked with a frown as Harry got up from his lounger.

"We are packing and going home. Come on," Harry said, offering a hand.

Draco looked at Harry with suspicion, because there was no way they'd manage that on Christmas Eve, but two hours later, Harry had managed to arrange an international portkey, because, well because he was Harry Bloody Potter, and someone back home authorized it even though with time zones, everyone was supposed to be busy buying the last presents or drinking mulled wine after dinner. And yet here they were, at Grimmauld Place, engulfed in the cold. "I can see my breath," Draco said with a grin.

"You're such an idiot," Harry said affectionately. "You should firecall your mother and let her know we're going over tomorrow."

Draco's smile got even bigger. Nope, he wasn't excited at all. Nope, it wasn't him who twisted and turned all night waiting for the first sunlight, getting up at the crack of dawn to get ready. Nope, that was totally not him getting excited about a day at the Manor.

"Draco, it's fucking seven in the morning and two at night in Jamaica. Can't we sleep a little longer?" Harry whined.

"Of course you can. I'm just taking care of a few things," Draco answered in his very posh tone.

"Sure I can," Harry murmured as he pulled the sheets away and got up. "If I want to listen to you bitch all day long."

"Must you be so vulgar?" Draco asked.

"Must you be such a pain in my arse?" Harry replied.

"You weren't complaining last night," Draco said with a grin.

Harry snorted. "Right, I'm showering and then we can go."

An hour later, they were at Malfoy Manor. Harry gasped when they arrived. The gardens looked like a winter wonderland, which soft snow covering the ground. Inside, there were multiple trees in every room and every hallway, mistletoe floated through the house, and lights brightened the dark home. There was even snow covering some of the furniture. "What the- This isn't real."

"Oh don't be silly. There's no snow in England, didn't we cover this yesterday?" Draco snapped before smiling. "Mother came up with the spell when I was young and wanted to see snow. All the snow you see, it's her creation. It doesn't melt and stays fluffy."

"You're such a Mummy's boy."

"I take offense to that. I'm perfectly happy to let my father spoil me as well," he said with a grin, before looking around, happiness showing in the curve of his mouth and the wrinkles in his eyes. "This is Christmas."

They'd create their new traditions, but some old traditions didn't need to be changed.