Yule Dinner

"Draco, darling, where have you been? Pansy called this morning, she was really disappointed she did not see you." Narcissa smiled at her son when he emerged from the fireplace in the sitting room. Draco walked over to her and sat down heavily.

"I was out." His sullen tone was a stark contrast with Narcissa's happy voice. Her lips twisted in a half-smile. "Well, it seems to have done no good at all for your temper, my dear. Maybe if you had stayed, Miss Parkinson could have lifted your spirits. Such a lovely young lady she is, always a kind word, never lacks for conversation… I invited her over for dinner tonight. She kept saying how sorry she was you were out, and she stayed here for ages. But she had to leave, she had some Yule celebration to attend, and it just seemed to break her heart. So I invited her over for dinner, of course."

Draco looked up, a hard gleam in his eyes that took his mother by surprise.

"Mother, I will not receive Pansy here tonight. Let her know, please."

Narcissa sniffed and raised an eyebrow in disdain. "I most certainly shall not, Draco, it is just not done. You will attend dinner here tonight and you will behave like a proper gentleman. Pansy is very fond of you, you know. Everyone keeps saying what a lovely couple you make."

Draco could not quite hide his exasperation at her thoughtless comments. "Mother, stop. Just, stop."

She looked at him, all injured innocence and false concern. "I have not the honour of understanding what you mean, my darling Son."

He took a deep breath and said in a carefully steady voice, "Stop trying to push me to propose to Miss Parkinson. Do not even entertain the idea of a union between us because it is never going to happen. And she will not set foot in this house again. If you insist on seeing her for dinner, you will kindly do so elsewhere. She is no longer welcome here."

Narcissa shook her head. She busied herself with draping her robes in a more flattering flow around her and said, with a light laugh, "What silly nonsense is this, Draco? Of course she is still welcome here. You forget your place, son. And I suggest you reconsider your thoughts on…"

Draco sprang from his seat. His anger, never really subdued since he had heard Greg's story, was rolling off him in waves and the rage seemed to make him even taller than he already was. He towered over his mother, who leaned back against the sofa, her mouth open in surprise, and possibly even fear.

"Mother, that is enough." His voice rang through the sitting room, measured and clipped, fury brimming under the surface. "I think it is not I, but you who has forgotten their place in this household. I own this house, I decide who is welcome here, and Pansy Parkinson no longer is. You will respect my wishes, and you will be so kind as to remember that I do not have to justify myself to you. You are here as my guest, Mother, you are not the Lady of the house." He took a deep breath, then continued, "You will tell Miss Parkinson she is not to come here tonight, and if you have any sense, Mother, you will stay away from her. She is not an asset to your reputation. But whether you decide to see her again or not, you will never invite her into my house again."

He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, pausing at the door.

"I also believe it is time you start thinking of when you shall go back to Paris, so I can arrange for an International Portkey. You should know that Greg Goyle will come here when he is discharged from the hospital, and he will need peace and quiet to convalesce. So you may want to consider leaving before he arrives." Before she could respond, he was gone.

Draco just about managed not to slam the door to his library. He cast a silencing charm, conjured up a vase and threw it against the far wall. It shattered into pieces at the impact. He watched them fall and tumble onto the carpet with cold satisfaction. He had tried to go to the Ministry, but it was closed to visitors on Yule Day and the Aurors on duty had told him to come back in a few days, as they had their hands full with the usual emergencies. They had no time to spare for a former Death Eater. He had tried to visit the Potters, determined to go straight to Harry after he had been turned away at the Ministry, as he would, at the very least, listen to his story and make sure someone would act, but the Potters had not been at home. His mother's behaviour had only added to his frustration, but he did not regret his outburst. It was time for her to go, and he could not wait to see the back of her.

Only then he noticed the tawny owl that had been perched on his desk, as it bristled its feathers and gave him a disapproving glare. It held out its leg imperiously, and Draco could have sworn it seemed to raise its eyebrows, even though owls do not have any.

Muttering an apology, he took the parchment off the owl and scratched it on the head.

"I don't have any treats here, but if you want some I can call Essie."

The owl nibbled affectionately at his finger, and Draco chuckled. He summoned his house-elf, asked her to bring some treats for the owl and rolled open the parchment.

Caro,

I never received an answer to my previous owl, so this one will wait until you give it a response. I hope you have not forgotten your promise to join us for Yule? Blaise would love to see you again. You know you are as dear to me as my own son, and I want my family around me to celebrate Midwinter. No matter how late you receive this, Draco, you will always have a seat at our table. Join us, if your mother can spare you.

E. Zabini

Draco smiled, penned a quick confirmation and gave it to the owl, who ruffled his feathers and hooted in pleasure as Draco patted him again.

"Off you go now," he said, opening the window with a lazy wave of his wand.

He had indeed forgotten about Mrs. Zabini's invitation in the confusion that followed Greg's revelations. It was not so late he could not still go to Zabini Manor and forget all about the day's upheaval. He decided to change into more formal robes before joining his friends.

He met his mother on the stairs and informed her he would be gone.

"But Draco, not today, of all days? Not on Yule? You should spend this day with family." Although her manner was calm, Draco sensed his mother was upset. He sighed, and was silent for a moment, trying to formulate his thoughts.

"One can perhaps not choose the family one is born into, but one can choose the family one spends their life with. Mother, I told you before you left at the end of the summer, that I had a very difficult time understanding everything that happened. I told you that I had a hard time forgiving you. I do not want to lose you. Really, I do not, because you are all that is left of the family I was born into. But I cannot do this. I cannot pretend everything is fine between us and I cannot pretend I have forgiven you. I want to spend Yule with the family I have chosen. Maybe next year we can…" He broke off, unable to finish a promise he was quite certain he would not be able to keep. "It is too soon. It is just too soon. I am sorry."

Narcissa said nothing, but Draco could not be blind to the pain in her eyes. He nodded at her and made his way into his room, conscious of the single, silent tear that ran down his own cheek. He closed his door and leaned against it, feeling strangely relieved.

"Draco!" Blaise enveloped his best friend in a hug that Draco returned, though rather awkwardly. He was not usually this physical with Blaise, but somehow it seemed appropriate, since it was the first time they had met again since the accident.

"Thank you, my friend" Blaise whispered in his ear, tightening his arms around Draco just a little bit.

"I could hardly just leave you there. I have scarcely so many friends that I can afford to lose any of them." Draco tried to suppress his emotions with an off-handed remark, but he could not help being relieved to see his friend again.

Blaise let go of him and turned around to accompany him to the sitting room, where the other guests were gathered.

"I am glad you could come, Draco. I was… I was a little surprised I had not seen you before, I thought… No matter, you are here now." Placing an arm around Draco's shoulders, he walked into the large sitting room, which was amply decorated in Slytherin green and silver Yule decorations.

"Mother, look who decided to join us after all," Blaise announced to the room, and all conversation seemed to halt for a few heartbeats. Mrs. Zabini came up to him and gave him another tight hug. "Carissimo, I am delighted you are here. It would not be a proper Yule celebration without you, Draco. Come, have a drink, sit down." Blaise left him to his mother's attentions and sat down next to Miss Greengrass, lacing his fingers with hers.

Draco happily let the Zabini matriarch talk as his eyes wandered about the room. He nodded at Daphne and Theo, who were standing near the fire, little Elladora swaddled in their arms. He saw Flora and Luna, sitting on a window ledge with steaming cups in their hands, laughing, the fading light of the early winter afternoon illuminating their silhouettes, and Harry and Hermione, engaged in what seemed to be a heated discussion, though their voices were quiet and Draco could not make out anything they were saying from where he sat. He focused instead on Mrs. Zabini, Blaise, and Astoria, who were sitting near him. As soon as Mrs. Zabini allowed him an opening to speak, he took the opportunity to wish joy to the happily betrothed couple.

"By the by, Blaise, Miss Greengrass, my congratulations on the engagement. Mrs. Zabini was so kind as to inform me a couple of days ago."

Miss Greengrass blushed prettily and Blaise grinned, placing a quick kiss on her hand.

"Nothing could make me happier, Draco. I'm the luckiest wizard alive," he said, with a happy sigh.

"And I the luckiest witch," Astoria chipped in, smiling at Blaise and looking at him as if he were the handsomest man alive.

Draco privately thought their behaviour was on the verge of disgusting, so entranced were they by each other's presence, but he smiled nonetheless.

"I have to admit, it was a bit of a surprise," he said carefully. He could hardly say what he thought, that if a man who had once had the good fortune of gaining the affections of a woman as brilliant as Hermione Granger could be satisfied to spend his life instead with a woman of insipid artifice, he must be a fool indeed.

"I cannot tell you the exact moment or time it happened either. While I was recovering from that accident, she always took such great care of me, and we talked so much, and somewhere between the healing potions, books and walks, we fell in love."

Draco, who doubted any interesting conversation could ever be expected from Astoria, merely nodded, tuning out the rest of the conversation, which had quickly turned into the singing of praise onto a woman he still thought undeserving of such devotion. His eyes flicked towards Hermione, but he quickly looked away again when he realised she was staring at him. He had to suppress a sudden flare of envy at Blaise, who was now engaged and about to settle down with the witch he loved.

Despite some melancholy moments, he really enjoyed his evening. He teased Theo and Blaise, feeling like they were in the Slytherin common room once more, he talked Quidditch with Harry and Nargles with Luna, and he danced with Flora and Mrs. Zabini. He could not bring himself to ruin the warm and loving ambiance by any mention of Pansy and her disgusting past. Tomorrow, he decided, would be soon enough.

The only damper on the festive mood came when his mother made a surprise appearance. The happy atmosphere in the sitting room seemed to disappear instantly, as soon as the house-elf announced who had arrived.

"The Lady Narcissa Malfoy being in Floo, Mistress. She being admitted?"

Mrs. Zabini glanced at Draco, who had stiffened in his seat. "Yes, we can receive her." Though her tone did not reveal how she felt, there was a twist of her lips that betrayed her annoyance. The conversations had stilled, and everyone waited in silence until they heard the footsteps in the hallway that announced the arrival of the unwanted guest. Mrs. Zabini stood up from her seat, Blaise at her side, to receive her.

Narcissa entered the room, her head held high, her eyes sweeping around to take in the expressions and demeanor of everyone in the room before focusing on her hostess.

"Elissa, my dear, my apologies for visiting so unexpectedly."

"Narcissa, this is certainly a surprise. Happy Yule." Mrs. Zabini made a slight curtsy, which his mother barely deigned to return.

"Happy Yule indeed." Draco shivered as he heard the disdain in his mother's voice. "It was rather lonely, but I will not intrude on your little… party." Her eyes flicked at the Potters and Hermione Granger, then at Theo and Daphne.

"I only came to convey my best wishes to the newly engaged couple and to invite you all for a little dinner the day after tomorrow. A thank you, Elissa, for taking in my son, all those months ago. I am certain he has neglected to thank you properly for your kindness and charity."

Draco pressed his lips together in annoyance. Her words, her behaviour, her very presence were designed to insult and provoke, but he knew he must keep his composure. Any reaction from him, and she would play the injured mother. Though nobody in the room would, even for a moment, be deceived, he did not want to give her the pleasure.

Elissa Zabini raised an eyebrow. "We would have taken him in any time, Narcissa. You know he is like a son to me. I should never let anything happen to him if there was anything I could do to help." The implied unlike you was painfully clear. Draco could see his mother's anger in the cold glare in her eyes and a twitch of her lips, but to him the remark gave only consolation and strength. It told him that he was not alone.

"Quite. In any case, you are kindly invited. It will be my goodbye dinner, you see," Narcissa replied, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. "My life is in France now, as my son was kind enough to remind me." Draco sent a cold smile at his mother, but still refused to rise to the bait. "So I will be leaving in a few days, but I cannot in good conscience go away again without thanking his friends for their kind hospitality." She pointedly looked around the room. "You are all invited, of course. Draco will give you the address, since it is in his house."

With that final taunt - which, again, received no reaction - she nodded at Blaise and Mrs. Zabini, turned on her heel and swept out of the room, her cloak billowing in her wake. As soon as the door closed behind her, there was a collective sigh of relief, and laughter and warmth seemed to flood the room again.

"For a moment there I thought the room was invaded by Dementors." Potter shivered dramatically, then looked at Draco with a contrite smile. "I mean no offence to you, of course, Malfoy."

Draco waved the apology away. "None taken, I assure you. But at least now you understand why I am sending her back to France. One gets quite tired of casting a Patronus every day, you know."

They shared a look of understanding. Then Potter shifted rather uncomfortably and ran a hand through his unruly mop of hair. He asked, hesitantly, "Do you think she meant it?"

"That she is leaving? Of course. If she refuses to leave of her own accord, I shall Stupefy her before I Portkey her back to Paris." Draco nodded decisively. When he had said this before, almost jokingly, he had thought he would never do such a thing, but now his former reservations about taking such drastic measures had completely disappeared.

Potter shook his head, whether in disapproval or disagreement was not immediately clear. "I meant, the invitation," he clarified, eventually. "Did she mean to invite us all? I mean, I am hardly one of her favourite people, not to mention Hermione. She cannot have gotten over her prejudices so easily."

Draco glanced at Hermione, who was standing nearby but with her back to them. He was certain she was listening, though, the sudden tension in her shoulders betraying her.

"I honestly have no idea what goes on in her head, Potter. But she must know by now that being on good terms with the Heroes of the Wizarding World can only bring positive attention to the Malfoy name, so it is very much possible she did mean it, if only for her own social advancement. And even if she did not, please accept the invitation from me - I would very much like you, Mrs. Potter and Miss Granger to join that little dinner party. She is hosting it in my house, after all, and I can invite whomever I want."

Harry agreed and walked away to find his wife and inform her that they were expected to attend this fated dinner. Hermione turned around when he had gone.

"Did you mean that?" she asked quietly. He looked at her, saw the conflict in her eyes, hope warring with confusion and fear, and stepped closer to her. He remembered her reaction, only yesterday, when she had seen Pansy approach him, and decided that boldness - as bold as anyone could be in polite society - was the best course. She was, after all, a Gryffindor, and would appreciate a candid answer. He swallowed, searching her eyes for any sign of encouragement, gently took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips.

"I would love for you to be there," he said, equally quietly. He hoped his face conveyed what his voice could not, not here, not in public, where anyone might hear. He saw her eyes widen, her lips move to form words that never found a voice, and the grip on his hand tightened, as if she wanted to make sure he was real and not a dream.

They just stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Then the cries of baby Nott startled them both. Hermione stepped back and Draco let go of her hand, but they seemed equally reluctant to look anywhere but at each other. The baby gave another penetrating shriek that made her wince. Draco smiled softly, then turned around and offered to take the crying infant in his arms. Daphne had not trusted him enough to let him hold her before, but after Blaise's accident, she seemed to have warmed up to him, and he was allowed to take the child, cradling her and walking around until she fell asleep again. He could feel Hermione's eyes on him, but focused his attention on the baby, wondering whether he had been too forward, and if Hermione would accept the invitation. He had no other chance to ask her, but hope flared up in his heart every time their eyes met. She looked indecisive still, but the little smile that played on her lips almost convinced him she would be there.

AN - thanks to my beta hobbit penguin. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

Sweet Merlin and Morgana, over 250 reviews! I am beyond grateful for your support and love for this story. Thank you.

Pansy will be dealt with in the next chapter...