"Was it just me, or did it look like he actually expected us to stop him from leaving."

Ron was still fuming when they walked out of the store. They had purchased the ring they thought was the right size and Harry reluctantly followed Ron down to Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes.

"It did kinda seem like it."

Ron shoved his hands in his pockets and stomped down the street. "He's such a bastard. I can't believe our luck. I mean really, what are the chances of him walking by the store just then?"

Harry just trudged along quietly behind his friend thinking about what Malfoy had said. He never thought about Draco enjoying their old fights before, but the more he thought about it, the more he remembered how many fights Malfoy had started between them in the old days.

"Do you think he wanted to stay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it did seem like he wanted us to stop him … and, I don't know, but there's something about what he said that's bugging me."

Ron scoffed. "Everything he says bugs me." They walked up to the Wheezes' front door and Ron held the door open for his friend to follow through, but Harry stopped before going in. "You not coming?"

"Nah, I think I'll head home and get something hot to drink."

"Alright, see you later then."

"Yeah."

Ron went in and the door swung shut behind him cutting of the warm breeze from inside the shop and leaving Harry out alone in the cold.

Harry went home to the little two-man flat he and Ron had shared since they started their academy training and looked around at the pictures on the walls of the main room feeling suddenly very sentimental. He stopped in front of a large photograph near the window where the Weasleys smiled down and waved at him. Even Fred was there; good old Fred, grinning impishly at him without a care in the world with his arm around his brother George. It was strange seeing him and thinking about how young he was now that Harry was older than him, and the fact that he could ever be older than Fred was an indescribably depressing feeling. Harry would even get to be older than Sirius and Lupin one day if he lived long enough. As a matter of fact, next year Harry would be the same age as his own father, and that thought alone made him realize he needed a drink.

He opened the icebox and got out a brew, plopped down in his comfy chair, pushed it into the reclining position and thought about his Hogwarts days. Malfoy's unexpected reappearance made him remember the old gang and how things were before half of them died. Harry drank his liquor, and was asleep in his chair, curled up with the empty bottle, by the time Ron came home.

~0~

Malfoy apparated into the foyer of his childhood home and hollered for one of his old servants who promptly appeared beside him and showed him were his father was. The head of the Malfoy Estate was sitting at his desk sorting through his Christmas party preparations when his son was announced at the door. A second later, Draco made his entrance.

"Why is my account empty?"

Lucius didn't even turn around. "It is empty because I emptied it."

"I know that, but why did you empty it?!"

"Don't shout, Draco. It's unbecoming of a gentleman."

"Please don't lecture me, father." He pinched the bridge of his nose and paused for a moment to compose himself. "Why did you empty my account?"

"I emptied your account because I have asked you to come home so that I could have a talk with you three times now, and you have failed to do so. However, I knew you would come if I took away your money, and so you have."

Draco leaned against the door frame, plunged his hands into his cloak pockets and sighed heavily.

"Why should I hurry home just to have you scold me and tell me what a worthless good for nothing I've turned out to be?"

"Oh don't be so melodramatic. I only wanted to know if you had decided on which path you were going to take yet. You only have a few more days until New Years, you know, and you should be enrolled in a University or employed by now."

"New Years? But mother told me I had until my next birthday."

"What?!" Lucius slammed down his quill and stalked out of the room with Draco following merrily behind him. "Tipsy! Where's my wife?"

"Don't shout, father, it's unbecoming of a gentleman."

Lucius whirled around and pointed a warning finger and his son. "Don't. Your mother may insist on doting on you, but this is your last extension." He turned away and continued down the hall. "Now where is my wife?"

Draco stayed behind and begrudgingly contemplated his sad future in which he could potentially be cut off from any and all family funding. He slowly doubled back to his father's den, feeling rather sorry for himself, and absentmindedly flipped through his father's papers while he waited to be summoned back into the argument. After the fourth or fifth paper, the invitation list caught his eye, and he smiled; amused at his own genius. Quickly, he picked up the quill and scribbled down a few extra names before covering it up with the other papers and leaving the room.

It was then that Tipsy suddenly appeared in front of him and bowed anxiously at his feet. "Excuse me, Sir, but your parents-"

Draco waved his hand and silenced her. "I know, I know. Just show me where they are."

~0~

Later that evening as Harry and Ron were sitting down to dinner at the Burrow with the family, a pair of elegantly folded paper doves flew out of the living room fire and landed in front of Harry Potter and Arthur Weasley. After they ruffled their wings and proudly showed off their expensive paper plumage, they presented their recipient with a polite little bow, and unfolded to reveal two beautifully written gold-scrawled invitations. Harry and Author curiously read the inscriptions before exchanging surprised and bewildered looks.

Molly leaned over and started reading the invitation over her husband's arm. "What's it say, dear?"

"You won't believe this, but it appears that we've all been invited to the Malfoy Family Christmas Party."