With the din of Weasley cheer removed to the kitchen, the lounge was relatively quiet. Here and there, stuffed heads appeared to stare in glassy-eyed astonishment out of the mess of ribbon and crumpled paper in which they were nestled. Boxes tumbled forth their offerings, as well, as charmed Christmas candlelight winked off the metallic train that chugged and choo-chooed its way under the tree. In the middle of all this happy disorder sat Draco, his hands caressing the overlarge green and orange striped jumper that laid across his knees.
Sewn into the centre of the jumper with entwined gold and silver thread—and outlined in red—was an ornate "D."
It was hideous, truly, yet it was also the most beautiful piece of knitwear that Draco had ever seen.
I love it. It's the best gift I've ever re—
"Ready to join us?"
Draco hastily pulled on the jumper, permitting himself a wide, genuine smile before turning to address Harry. "I do hope you've saved me a sausage, Potter."
Harry chuckled and waggled his eyebrows. "Oh, I've saved you plenty, 'Malfoy'."
Flushing as Harry pulled him into an embrace, Draco thought, Perhaps not quite the best gift, after all . . . .