A/N: I'm adopting a new scene-break device, guys. Rather than the (*)(*)(*), I'll now be using .o0o. as it's rather gentler and more elegant, in my humble opinion.

The Ghost Prince

Chapter Nine

Part One

Under the Mistletoe

Thick smoke clouded the station, which bustled with frenzied activity and families arriving to await the scarlet train in the distance. For the most part, there were broad grins on the faces of many parents, all eager to welcome their children home after a lengthy term at Hogwarts. Truth be told, most of those present on the platform were still reeling from the all-to-recent death of war heroine, Molly Weasley.

Despite this, a great deal of them viewed the loss as an opportunity to simply swap tales of the war with each other. They were, for the most part, old folks long since gone to seed, content to rub at their sagging bellies and reminisce about the trials and histories of a war long since fought and won. The one story that was on the tip of every tongue, he had discovered whilst going about his daily routine, was that of Molly's legendary duel with his deranged Aunt Bellatrix.

What he found most amusing was the sheer number of people, who he knew for a fact had been shivering beneath their beds whilst the fighting had been taking place, now claiming to have witnessed their fight.

Draco shook his head and tightened his grasp on his wife's hand, sending her what comfort he could as they awaited the arrival of their grandchildren. The late Weasley matriarch had never been quite as close with Hermione ever since the truth of their children's parentage had come to light, and over the years they had drifted further and further away as they tended to their respective families. Other than the rare visits to the Burrow, or of course the few times that both they and the Weasleys had decided to come to call on Scorpius and Lily at the same time, the families had rarely mingled. Despite being unified by marriage and common grandchildren, some grievances could never truly be laid to rest, and the plain truth of the matter was that Molly and Arthur had lost two sons and a granddaughter to the Outcast's rebellion . . . and a daughter to the current War of Shadows.

Still, it was quite evident to Draco that his wife had been quite shaken by the untimely death of Molly. He understood. The woman had at one point in his wife's life been akin to a second mother to her, after all.

A shrill siren split the air and he found himself grinning despite the dour mood of his family. Who could blame him really? His home was much too quiet without the raucous escapades of his grandchildren to keep both him and Hermione on their toes. Though he still needed his walking cane to chase after them, he was finding himself to be in marginally better health than he had been earlier that year. The potions he had been taking for the past few months had proved to be quite beneficial to his deteriorating heart, and he was quite thrilled that his years left on this earth had been added to once again.

Merlin had to be praised for giving him such a talented potioneer as a daughter.

Speaking of said daughter, he doubted if he had ever seen a person so jubilantly melancholy as Cassiopeia in all his life. Right now she was standing several steps in front of them, a wan yet brilliant smile on her face as the train doors slid open. Like a little whirlwind, Aurora flew out of the train, sable hair whipping behind her as she hurled herself onto her mother. Draco could only laugh as Leo lugged himself out of the train after her, dragging not only his own trunk, but his sisters as well, a cheery grin on his pale face as he too melted into Cassiopeia's strangling embrace.

There was no denying that his eldest daughter's years had been filled with grief, but now, as she struggled to stand upright under the weight of two rapidly growing children, he couldn't help but blink away a tear. Cassiopeia deserved her moments of happiness more than anyone else in the world.

"They're growing," commented Hermione, "If Leo keeps this up, he'll be taller than Hugo before long."

"And we'll never hear the end of it from Orion," laughed Draco, eager to keep the glimmer of mirth in his wife's eyes and tone now that it had finally returned. "Morgana knows that that boy inherited his height from his vertically challenged father."

"I heard that, Dad," came an offended voice from behind them, and Draco shook his head as his eldest walked forward to stand in front of him, his fiancé in tow. To be painfully honest, he was becoming quite irritated by the couple's incredibly lengthy engagement. Their son was a fifth year at Hogwarts, surely they could dispense with formality and just tie the knot.

Especially since Hermione was getting quite eager to expand her collection of grandchildren . . . something that Draco wasn't all too keen on. In his opinion, six people calling him Grandpa were more than enough.

"It isn't anything that you don't already know," pointed out Draco with a light grin on his face, whilst Lily and Hermione both stifled giggles.

"I'll have you know that not every man has to be above six feet tall," he responded dryly. Before Draco could respond with more well-natured ribbing, his eyes widened at the scene playing out before him within the train.

"Well, he does take after his father in more ways than just his height," chuckled Hermione, gesturing towards the train. Shaking his head for what must be the umpteenth time that morning, Draco snickered under his breath as his son and – hopefully – future daughter-in-law turned, jaws going slack at the sight.

There stood Orion, half-hidden by the compartment's curtains, locked in a rather heated embrace with Keira Scamander, whom Draco recognised from the last Weasley dinner he had been forced to attend. The couple appeared to be snogging as it were their last day on this planet – though after a few minutes, Orion opened his eyes, his coppery gaze meeting Draco's.

Cheeks burning red, he hurriedly drew the curtains, no doubt hoping his mother hadn't witnessed any of it.

"Like father, like son," guffawed Draco.

"Funny," teased Hermione, causing Draco to turn redder than his grandson, his blush clashing horribly with his age-lines, "I remember his grandfather being the randy one."

"Shush," he whispered, so that his children couldn't hear and be scarred any more than they already were, "The only reason I was like that was because I was sneaking around with an exceptionally beautiful witch."

"Oh," she murmured, rising up on her toes to brush her nose against his, crows-feet crinkling as she smiled, "And how does that beautiful witch look today?"

"She's quite old, to be honest, though it doesn't really matter considering I'm the one she grew old with."

She laughed, a tinkling sound that was oddly youthful, especially since she was now in her seventies. To be sure, this was still middle-aged for a witch, but it still sounded strange to hear such a youthful sound escaping her lips.

"There isn't anyone in the world I'd rather have gotten old and grey with," she replied, pressing her lips to his for the briefest of moments before parting and turning to greet their grandchildren.

.o0o.

The clock struck one, and she shook her head, sipping at her coffee and glaring at the door. It was late, and the world was dark, save for the raucous yells of the drunks making their nightly rounds on the streets below. Her fiancé was asleep, worn out from his long hours at work, and though she envied him his ability to find solace in the world of dreams, she did not begrudge him his rest.

After all, he was not a mother, and did not know the feeling of having to wait up for a child.

Just a week past, her son had returned from Hogwarts with fresh tales of magic and an arsenal of new spells at his disposal, as well as the usual complaints about boring old Professor Binns. She never contradicted him when it came to his education. There truly was no need for her son to learn about the bigotry and prejudice that had run rampant through her own six-and-a-half years at Hogwarts.

Then again, he knew that she had had to take her NEWTs at the Salem Academy of Magic because of her pregnancy, and the manner in which she had been forced to flee Britain, so perhaps he did know more than his easygoing personality let on.

Right now though, Lily was quite sure that no amount of fond feelings would keep her from verbally whipping her son within an inch of his life for staying out so late, especially in such treacherous times. Scorpius tried to keep the worst tidings from her, but she was around the Outcasts and the Order often enough to obtain snippets of information regarding the Cultists.

Topping off her irritation – and worry – for her son was the sense of mourning that still clung to her and wouldn't let go. Her relationship with her grandmother had never been as strong as was the one shared by her cousins and the deceased matriarch, but she still felt the pangs of loss, heavy upon her heart.

It was sad, but to be brutally honest with herself, she had seen it coming, and that somehow made the pain lessen in comparison. Molly Weasley had been quite old, and they all had known that her time was coming, so whilst they grieved for her passage, they also were grateful that her death had been quick and painless. The loss was felt most keenly by her remaining uncles, George, Charlie and Bill, and most of all, her grandfather, Arthur.

The man was inconsolable, and to be honest, she doubted as to whether he would survive long without his wife.

Suddenly, she was roused from her musings by the creaking of the front door. Her head whipped up, and she set aside her coffee mug, making sure that her glare was in place and that her wand was in her hand. Since the wards had not been tripped, Lily knew that the late night arrival was either friend or family, most likely her wayward son, but it never hurt to be cautious.

She watched him tiptoe in, giggling giddily, and even from the living room she could smell the sharp scent of Firewhiskey clouding the air. Then she rolled her eyes, realising that Orion wasn't alone, and that he'd somehow managed to wrangle his naively innocent cousin into accompanying him on this nightly escapade.

Sighing, because she knew better than most that Cassiopeia was most likely going to have a stroke when she found out her son had been out drinking with Orion, she cleared her throat and flicked her wand, allowing light to flood the room. Both boys froze, before guiltily looking over their shoulders in unison, which made for quite the amusing spectacle.

"Did you two enjoy the movie?" she asked, feigning nonchalance and ignorance in equal measure, though the look in her copper-toned eyes was perfectly enough to ascertain that they both knew exactly how much trouble they were in.

"Yes, Aunt Lily," replied Leo, his voice sounding surprisingly sober, despite the pungent smell of liquor upon his clothing, "I had to listen to Ryan compare me to the zombies in it for most of the film."

"Anything else?" she pressed, hiding the tiny smile that threatened to break out across her face at the mention of her son's moniker for his cousin. Despite all evidence to the contrary, Leo and Aurora had both been living with Scorpius and her whilst Cassiopeia recovered in hospital, and she knew better than most that the boy liked his unorthodox nickname.

Still, this was a serious issue and it was her job to remain strict.

"How many days am I grounded for?" sighed Orion after a brief moment of silence, surprising her with how easily he had given up. Well, she had caught him red-handed for once, and that probably was making all the difference in the world. Based on the way he was leaning on Leo, at any rate, her son had had quite a bit too drink tonight.

She was surprised that Leo was sober enough to walk and talk.

"A week, and I am deeply disappointed in you for dragging your cousin with you and getting drunk. I trust you to try and be responsible and look out for him, you know," she answered crossly, rolling her eyes at his groan, before shifting her gaze and fixing it upon Leo. "And you, I'll be owling your mother in the morning. It's understandable that you got pulled along for the ride in this, and I'm glad you don't seem to have drank that much tho–"

"Aunt Lily," Leo interrupted her, "It was my idea."

She started, eyes widening as she saw the truth of his words reflected in his eyes. Orion shifted awkwardly, still letting his cousin support him, his eyes tinged red from what could only be excessive levels of alcohol.

"Your idea?" she repeated, as it made no sense to her as to why Leo would be the one to suggest something so wild and rebellious.

"Everyone's had all these experiences, you know, Aunt Lily," he began, and Lily thought she could see where this was going, and she felt both anger and sympathetic towards her nephew in that one moment.

"And I haven't done anything. I'm sixteen and I've been dead for most of my life, and I don't have a clue about anything that my friends know about. I can't even watch TV without getting confused, let alone discuss the latest broomstick models, or share fun and embarrassing stories with my friends. I just can't . . . and I want that so bad that I convinced Orion to take me to a bar tonight so that I could know what that feels like. He didn't even drink that much, truly, I had much more."

Shaking her head, and sighing wearily to herself, Lily rose from her armchair and walked across the living room. Both boys flinched as she approached, but she surprised them by simply pulling Leo into a tight hug, squeezing the life out of him until he began to protest.

"You're still in trouble," she stated, "but I understand, and I'll be sure to mention it to your mother when I write her. Now go to bed."

Nodding eagerly, both boys turned to leave, but she reached out a hand and grabbed her son's shoulder.

"Not you, Ryan."

Five minutes later, Lily pulled her son into a hug, and stood on tiptoes to whisper into his ear:

"I'm proud of you."

"For what?" he asked in confusion.

"For helping your cousin and trying to take the blame to keep him getting in trouble. The Hat made the right choice when it put you in Gryffindor, and I can see it every day."

"Does this mean I'm not grounded?" he queried hopefully, a faint smile crossing his face.

"Absolutely not," Lily answered with a smile, "Now go to bed, and I'll have a mug of black coffee and an anti-hangover potion on the table waiting for you in the morning."

"Thanks, Mum," he grumbled before staggering off, leaning on the walls more than he should as he made the short journey to his bedroom. Shaking her head, she followed him down the passage, flicking her wand behind her to switch off the lights and ensure the door was locked. Pausing at his door only long enough to make sure that both boys were in their respective beds, she continued to her own room and slipped beneath the covers, stifling a yawn as she felt an arm curl around her waist.

"Our son is growing up to be just like his father," she whispered as Scorpius nuzzled against her in his sleep, "He also can't hold his liquor to save his life."

.o0o.

"Wake up!"

He groaned and ducked his head deeper beneath his blankets, hoping that his sister would go away and stop yelling into his ear. Judging by the lack of light he saw when he slid his eyelids open a crack it was still much too early to be getting out of bed.

Much, much, too early.

"Get up, Leo!" she snapped, causing him to mumble a few indiscernible words and press his pillow down over his head to stave off her loud voice. This did little to dissuade his sister though, and seconds later his blankets were yanked away, exposing him to the chill morning air.

"It's Christmas."

Leo blinked at her, his vision bleary as he rolled to the edge of the bed and began feeling about the floor for his discarded T-shirt, her words barely registering. It wasn't helping his thought processes in the slightest that the habit of sleeping in his boxers had stuck and that with it being the middle of winter, the mornings were freezing.

Finally, after pulling on his shirt and getting out of bed, he turned and stared at his impatient sister. She had her arms folded over her chest and was tapping her foot, looking eerily like a dark-haired, much younger, version of their mother.

"About time, sleepyhead," muttered Aurora, "and Merry First Christmas, Leo."

"Christmas?" he mumbled, still feeling rather sleepy as he felt her arms wrap around his torso, pulling him into a hug, "That's today?"

"Yes, it's today," she replied slowly, as if talking to a rather stupid individual, causing him to flush red. He truly had forgotten all about it being Christmas morning, despite helping his sister trim the tree, and assist his Grandma Hermione bake some gingerbread the night before.

"Now come on, we've got presents."

Still shivering, he followed her, wondering if he would be meeting any of his school friends at the Christmas party his grandfather had insisted on throwing that evening. It promised to be quite the grand affair since Grandpa Draco was determined to get everyone's mind of their recent troubles, and whilst the Weasley portion of the family were still in no mood to be celebrating, a great deal of his mother's side of the tree were in dire need of a night of fun and festivity. He found himself hoping that he'd see Cecilia, Jeremy and Keira, especially since he'd been missing them as of late. All things considered, Leo would settle for seeing just Orion – whom hadn't been allowed to leave his mother's sight since the night they had been caught – again, because the younger (or older, depending on how you looked at things) boy always had a knack for eliciting laughter.

Then his eyes widened as he caught sight of the small mountain of brightly-wrapped packages beneath the tree. Grandma Hermione and Granpa Draco were leaning back on the loveseat, both still sporting bed-hair, but sipping at their morning tea. Smiling, they wished him a merry Christmas before he was yanked into a bone-breaking hug.

"Merry Christmas, Leo," his mother whispered, her voice choked with emotion, and Leo couldn't help but feel embarrassed by the wetness blossoming across his shoulder, his mother's tears soaking into his shirt.

"Merry Christmas, Mum," he managed to say, before finally escaping her embrace. Kissing her on her forehead, his eyes wandered down to the pile of gifts floating towards him, and was about to settle down and begin opening them when he caught his mother's tear-stained gaze.

"Oh go on," she chuckled, her voice still somewhat watery, "I'm just being silly and sentimental, is all."

Leo didn't need telling twice, eagerly dropping down and crossing his legs, grabbing onto the first gift with a broad grin on his face. Not caring that he probably looked like a toddler being given a sweet treat for the first time, he ripped through the wrapping, scattering bits of gift-wrap and tissue paper across the floor, to his entire family's amusement.

His grandparent's had gotten him a broomstick – they must have evidently forgotten that he was much worse on a broomstick than his Grandma Hermione – and his Grandma Astoria had gotten him the latest broomstick servicing kit, which made him wonder if the three old one's had gotten together and co-ordinated. Aurora had gotten him a large hamper of his favourite chocolates, and a new Slytherin scarf. A pocket-knife from Aunt Kat and Uncle Xav, enchanted to open any lock, and a set of books from Aunt Rose and Uncle Delphin later, he discovered the first present that had been sent by one of his friend's from Hogwarts.

It wasn't one whom he had expected to have sent anything, to be painfully honest.

Tearing away the scarlet wrapping, his grinned at the belt in his hands, white leather with a silver buckle. Better yet, it seemed that the belt carried a definite Christmas theme, as there was a sprig of mistletoe attached to the clasp.

"Why is Amara sending you mistletoe?" asked Aurora with an expression of utmost distaste on her face.

"I'm sure it's just a Christmas theme," said Grandpa Draco, though his face was red and Leo noticed him sending urgent glances to both Grandma Hermione and Mum.

"I'll wear it to the Christmas party tonight," he agreed, setting the belt aside before digging into the next pile of gifts, not noticing the worried looks on his mother's and grandmother's face as they exchanged nervous looks. Aunt Lily and Uncle Scorpius had gotten him a new gaming console from Malfoy Holdings, and a set of games to go with it, which he thought was the best gift so far as it meant he no longer had to go to Orion's to blow up zombies. Uncle Hugo and Aunt Francesca's gift was a prank-set consisting of all the latest Weasley Wizard Wheezes' products, and before he knew it, he was holding Orion's present, which turned out to be a bottle of Firewhiskey and a note to not get caught.

Fighting the urge to giggle at the joke, he found that the next gift caused him to have a completely different emotional reaction. Blushing furiously, he shoved the book aside before his mother and sister could read the title, making a mental note to jinx Jeremy as soon as he saw the other boy.

What was he thinking, sending him a book titled: Ten Failsafe Ways to Charm Witches?

Cecilia had thankfully gotten him a somewhat more normal present in the form of a blue, leather-bound journal and a pot of colour-changing ink, which he very much appreciated, because he could tell from the minor details that a lot of thought had been put in. The colour was a shade he had mentioned was his favourite, the ink something he had wished he had, and there was even the imprint of a lion cub on the front cover.

Now all he had to find out was how Cecilia Pierce had discovered the shape of his patronus.

Finally, a small mountain of presents later, he found himself frowning as he realised that he hadn't received anything from his mother. Just then, she nudged his shoulder and he turned, frown deepening as she pushed a plush, velvet-lined box into his hands.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he snapped open the box and stared uncomprehendingly at the white-gold ring within, set with a single square-cut emerald.

"This belonged to your father," Cassiopeia said with a pained look on her face, "I think he'd have wanted you to have it."

Slipping the ring onto his index finger, Leo gasped as the metal heated for a split second and then shrank itself to his size, so that it fit him quite snugly. Without another word, he flung his arms around his mother, and this time it was his tears soaking into her shoulder, because she had just given him the one thing he had thought to never receive.

A way of feeling close to his dad.

A/N: Well, this is Part 1 of Chapter 9, because believe it or not the chapter somehow made it to 9 000 words without me noticing that – pesky muses kept me writing and writing – so I've split it into two right here. The second part of their Christmas will be updated within this week, once I've gone through and edited

Thank you all for reading.