When they first arrived at the Burrow on Christmas Eve, things were a little awkward.

Teddy and Andromeda had grown used to Draco well enough, but the rest of the Weasleys ⁠— by blood, informal adoption, or marriage ⁠— didn't seem to know how to act around Draco.

Harry had been telling the truth ⁠— ultimately they just wanted him to be happy ⁠— but that didn't mean they were completely comfortable with Draco or that Molly and Arthur hadn't had any hesitations. With Draco's history with all of them, how could they not?

Once the food and alcohol started flowing, however, things quickly lightened up, and Draco managed to charm his way into Molly's good graces by complimenting her cooking.

The Burrow was warm and overflowing with more food and sweets and friendly faces than you could shake a stick at, and Draco found himself glad he had come after all. George had done a bit of light hazing with some of the joke shop products, but Draco thought that if that was the worst of it, then he'd made out pretty damn good. The Weasleys were welcoming, much more so than they had to be, and he found it surprisingly easy to forget himself and simply chatter along.

Molly, for her part, was overjoyed to see Harry again after much too long and too many skipped holidays, but for once she wasn't fussing over him. For once in the last few years, he didn't look tired or pale or underfed or glum at all. She seemed happy about it, but in a bit of a mystified way, and shot more than a couple glances Draco's way when he coaxed another of those brilliant smiles out of Harry.

It was strangely beautiful for Molly to see her last child finally blooming. Oh, he wasn't her youngest, but he had certainly tagged along last, and he would always be the baby of the family.

She'd thought that she'd seen him and Ginny blooming when they had gotten married, but looking back, and looking and this...she didn't think that had actually been the case at all. For either of them. But seeing Ginny come into her own as one of the famous Holyhead Harpies, now that had been what her little girl had clearly been made to do.

Harry laughed again at something Draco said, and she saw Draco light up in response, and maybe he would never be Molly's favourite, maybe it would at least take time to forgive some of the things he had done (if ever), but...she could appreciate this. She was thankful for this. And she was happy that Harry seemed to bring out the best in him too. Merlin knew, the child needed it.

~*~

Weasley jumpers were handed around on Christmas morning, and Draco was given a faintly hideous navy blue and neon orange hat, with Molly Weasley telling him a little less apologetically than she could have that she simply hadn't had the time, but perhaps next year.

Somehow, Draco found the thing a little charming.

Merlin, what was happening to him?

He was the only one of them not wearing Muggle clothes, in any case, so it wasn't as if he could have put on a jumper over his robes, regardless.

After presents were opened (during which Draco spent most of the time reading letters from his friends in France and an excerpt from his and Luna's book that Neville had sent him, which he had saved precisely to keep him from the awkwardness of not being included), Ron challenged him to a game of wizard's chess.

It lasted hours, and Ron ate himself absolutely sick on jam thumbprint cookies as they played, with the justification that he needed 'brain fuel'.

Hermione spent the entire time doing her best to make both of them question every move they made, and the game only ended when George set off a firecracker in the room, which ended up zipping across the board and scattering the pieces. Draco just knew Harry was behind it, somehow. He didn't have any proof, but he could just feel it. Not that Harry would ever admit it.

Harry was, in fact, very much behind it.

After a few minutes of watching Ron and Draco play chess, he had gotten bored and wandered over to talk to George, striking up a conversation about the shop, only for George to abruptly veer the conversation off course.

"Hold on, I have something else I wanted to talk to you about first." He had grabbed Harry's arm and led him further away from the others, for some relative privacy.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You sure about this Malfoy thing?"

Harry had rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't have taken it this far if I wasn't sure. I wouldn't have brought him over at all if I thought he was a bad person!"

George had given him a narrow, searching look and then nodded. "Right. Just had to ask. You're a bit different with him, you know?"

Harry had frowned. "I guess Neville said something like that, but I haven't really noticed."

"It's not...bad," George had said hesitantly. "It's just...different."

"Great help, that," Harry had said sarcastically.

George had huffed and pushed his shoulder. "You're, I dunno, not so...world-weary. I think he's good for you, he makes you smile a lot, like Gin used to, it's just⁠—"

"Then why'd you have to say it all sinister to begin with?" Harry had asked exasperatedly.

"Because I want you to be sure!" George had said. "I don't want you to take it from anybody else, I want you to actually know what you want this time and not end up in the same place you did with Ginny."

Harry had been quiet for a moment. "Oh."

"I just..." George had run a hand through his hair. "I just worry about you a bit, Harry. You're still my baby brother, right? And you took the divorce a lot harder than Ginny." He put a hand on Harry's shoulder and looked into his eyes. "I think this is a good thing, but I want you to have thought about it and be sure about it, okay?"

Harry's eyes had found Draco across the room. "Yeah," he had said quietly. "I have thought about it. I'm sure."

George had made a slight face, and Harry had laughed.

"What?"

"You don't even know how soppy you look right now, do you?" George had asked.

Harry had shrugged. "I guess not?"

George had pulled him into a hug. "I'm proud of you, though. It's still nice to see you happy for once. I think teaching did you good."

Harry had snorted, but hugged him back. "Thanks."

George had pulled back. "So do you want to check out some of my new prototypes?"

When they'd come back downstairs and discovered Ron and Draco were still playing chess, George had taken one look at Harry's face, and winked at him.

"Don't worry. I've got this," he had said, producing a firecracker from his pocket.

After Molly had finished screaming the house down and they'd all cleaned up, Draco and Harry settled on one of the couches together.

"I know you had something to do with that, and I'll not be convinced otherwise," Draco leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"You'll never prove a thing," Harry said. "And even if I did, it would be your own fault for playing chess for over two hours."

Draco watched Saphronia bullying the tiny little Pigwidgeon through the window and smiled in amusement. "Look at your little beast," he said, pointing. "That's two strikes against you now."

"How is that my fault?" Harry protested, following his gaze. "She's strong-willed."

"Mhm. Exactly the sort of excuse I'd expect from a negligent parent like you." Draco's eyes sparkled as he teased him, but he refused to break.

Harry laughed. "Oh shut up."

He pulled him in for a kiss to make sure his awful mouth stayed shut for at least a few moments more, and they only broke apart when George wolf-whistled.

"Alright Harry!" he and Charlie cheered, and Harry threw two fingers up at them.

~*~

The next morning Hermione, Percy, and Harry were the only ones up and sitting at the table for breakfast. They had been having a perfectly nice conversation until George and Charlie came down the stairs.

"Morning!" George called out obnoxiously. "I'm glad Harry finally learned how to use a silencing charm!"

Percy choked on his orange juice.

Harry just glared. It was true that early on in their relationship, he and Ginny were often too caught up in each other to remember to cast privacy charms, but he didn't have to bring it up still.

"I didn't need one! We're at the Burrow; I'm not going to do anything when Molly's—"

Mrs Weasley walked into the room.

"What, dear? Did you call?"

"Er, no. George was just trying to convince me to set off more fireworks, and I was telling him off for you."

"Quite right," she turned to George with a stern look. "No more of those Wheezes in my house."

Harry grinned as George shot him a glare.

~*~

Boxing Day afternoon, they said their goodbyes, and headed back to the castle, still full of cheer and good food.

Harry was feeling hopeful, too, that he and Ginny may be able to be friends again. As they'd left, she'd hugged him and told him she was happy for him, and she had sounded like she'd meant it.

Draco and Harry held hands as they walked from Hogsmeade back up to the castle, chatting away about everything and nothing. Draco had liked the Weasleys, and they had liked him, and Harry couldn't be more pleased about it.

Even though their linked fingers were hidden by their billowing cloak sleeves, they dropped each others' hands by mutual agreement when they got close to the castle.