Chapter 19

A/N: Hello darling people who have reviewed/followed/favourited! Christmas is finally here at the Burrow (and I am now singing Christmas Carols in November because of that). Oh, and we're officially over the 50,000 word limit (well, my leeway is more at like 70,000 but still)! This calls for a little celebration: cookies for everyone! Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy reading!

Now, if a normal day at the Burrow with the entirety of the Weasley family (plus some additions, some of them more welcome than others) was crazy, Christmas morning at the Burrow with the entirety of the Weasley family (plus some additions, some of them more welcome than others) was absolutely ballistic.

With all the additions, the living room was even more crowded with mattresses, sleeping people, an enormous Christmas tree and at least enough Christmas decorations to drown a cruise ship. When Lily and Hugo started bouncing up and down at 11 in the morning, it was needless to say that it caused quite a ruckus. It was expected that the two youngest members of the family would wake everyone up, as they were always the most hyped. Thankfully, something called puberty and teenage-hood had convinced them that getting up before 10 AM on a holiday was a very, very bad idea (something they didn't quite understand when they were 8 and waking up at 6:30 for presents was a valid time). However, it was still slightly too early for Rose and they were determined to get her up.

Which explained why Rose woke up to a pillow to the face and Lily bellowing. "GET UP ROSE! FATHER CHRISTMAS BROUGHT PRESENTS!"

"Lily! You haven't believed in Father Christmas since you were 5!"

"Doesn't mean I don't want the presents!"

"Whatever happened to Happy Christmas?" Rose grumbled to herself as she began to pull on a pair of (green) leggings and a (green) cardigan. Speaking of green clothes, Rose noticed the stupid arrogant twat wasn't anywhere near his bed, and she noticed him already dressed in very stiff clothing at the door. Huh. Trust him to be up before anyone else on a Christmas morning. And dressed already! Was he trying to make her look bad?

Soon, Grandma Weasley had them all wrestled into their Sunday best and cleared away the mattresses ready for the distribution of presents. They had long ago abandoned making small piles for everyone because it just got confusing as there were so many! What happened now was that all the gifts were put in a big bag and then an easy spell gave them out according to labels. Frankly, Rose didn't quite see how that was easier, especially because flying gifts seemed to be a major hazard as it was quite frequently that Uncle George gave Exploding Dungbombs, and no one wanted to repeat the 2015 event, as they now named it.

By the time all the adults had come down and coffee (or eggnog, it was, after all, Christmas) had been sufficiently ladled out to all the members who needed it, the giving-out of presents began; mainly directed by Grandma Weasley and feebly accompanied by Grandpa Weasley. Grandpa Weasley was resting in a large armchair, looking very tired. Old age had hit him hard and he was now much weaker than he had been before, but he was there with a big smile and wishing everyone a happy Christmas.

Rose settled with her own presents. She had gotten a pair of fun socks from her godfather (who for some reason was convinced that they were the best gift ever. Perhaps some of the other people he knew would've liked socks but clearly she wasn't one of them), Uncle George had given her a gift card to Weasley Wizard Wheezes with a catalogue of what he considered to be the best new inventions (which she carefully pocketed because she still had a revenge to plan) and the rest of her family had pooled money to get her the complete Wizarding Encyclopaedia which weighed so heavy that she could barely lift it. And of course, the eternal Weasley jumper. Hers was always a bright red that matched her hair, but the moment she touched it, it turned a rather pale shade of green. She groaned in frustration and looked around to spot Malfoy but she couldn't see him.

As the rest of her family chattered happily, she sought out some peace to write a letter to Thomas to wish him a Happy Christmas too. She found that quiet place in her parent's bedroom, which was brightly illuminated as the cold winter sunlight streamed into the room. Her father's room hadn't changed all that much. There were still the musty Quidditch posters and Rose was pretty sure that if one were to check under the bed, there would still be some leftover dirty socks.

She settled on the bed (neatly folded, probably on courtesy of her mother); the sound of the chatter from below buzzing lightly; regularly punctuated by a sonorous screech, probably because of an unexpected explosion from one of Uncle George's many intricate devices. She pulled out a piece of parchment and began to awkwardly fumble with the quill. Rose knew how to write with one, just like she knew how to write with a fountain pen, but it was always far more awkward than her usual easy biro pen.

She fumbled with a pot of ink, carefully positioning it on her knee lest she should spill it on the tattered bed cover. Ink was notoriously difficult to get out of clothes, even with a strong tergeo which really made Rose question why the magical world continued to insist upon writing with quills when the risks were so annoyingly high. Really, one day she was going to make sure that all the students at Hogwarts used nice and comfy pens.

She was about to write her introduction when suddenly the door flew open. Oh and just her luck, it always seemed to be the same person she ran into. It was absolutely wonderful. Just great. Yep, you guessed it, Scorpius fricking Malfoy was in front of her again. Seriously, it was like no matter how much she tried to avoid him he always seemed to come back to annoy her.

"Malfoy," she sighed. Trust him to come and interrupt her while she was writing to her boyfriend.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is this not the attic?" he asked her, his tone strangely neutral, emotionless. It was slightly unnerving to see him this strange.

"No it's just next door. Why?"

"Charlie said I could go there for a rest." Huh. Malfoy needing to go and rest. That surprised her. Sure, he did have some slight bags under his eyes, which was kind of weird because they were on holidays.

Ask him if he's alright, pushed the little voice at the back of her head. What? No! She couldn't just do that! Remember, she hated him and he drove her crazy; if she started to ask him how he was it was going to totally ruin her whole act! But you're a nice person. Hmm. True. Oh well, here went nothing (but she definitely still had in mind all the times he had been the world's most annoying prat; and she also had the Amortentia incident locked at the very back of her mind).

"Are you okay?" she finally asked putting the quill down.

"Yeah, it's just Christmas can be difficult at times," he shifted uncomfortably and the door.

"Christmas? But it's the best holiday!" Rose was completely mystified. How could Christmas be possibly difficult? "You get tons of presents, great food and you see your family!"

"Yeah, that's sort of the thing that makes it difficult."

The thing? Was he allergic to Christmas food or something or did he not like getting presents? Well, she knew he was weird, but it still didn't make sense. Oh. Wait. Family. Why was he spending it with the Weasley family and not with his own?

"Oh."

"Well, don't let me bother you-"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Really Malfoy; you bother me for a living. You can stay and talk about it if you want. It helps."

WHAT ARE YOU DOING? She was screaming at herself while the two little voices at the back of her head were shaking hands with a smile. This was not good, not good at all! Why was she asking Malfoy about his whole story? First of all, why would he even want to share? And second of all, had she forgotten that he was supposed to be her worst enemy and possibly the guy she smelt in the potion? Sharing close emotional moments was definitely not going to make the whole sorting out emotions any easier!

"What are you? My therapist?"

"No, but I'm a friendly ear."

"I think we both know you aren't a friendly ear."

"Hey!" she cried, "not to you perhaps, but in general I am! Do you want to talk about it or not."

He sighed and leaned against the door frame. "It's just that my family is a bit of a mess. Dad can't bear family moments ever since Mum died, I generally spend Christmas at Hogwarts."

"Oh. I'm sorry…."

He gave her a small smile. He looked so vulnerable at that very moment it completely unsettled Rose. To her, Malfoy had always seemed like a stoic mean jerk, and yet here he was, bearing his soul to her, of all people. Rose was almost scared of this Malfoy she didn't really know. "Don't worry about it. You couldn't have known."

Actually, she had known. She remembered when Albus had mentioned it at one point when he had gone to the funeral. And it really hadn't been all that long ago. She had just dismissed it at the time, not thinking about the implications, but now it seemed to her that maybe she should have paid more attention. She decided not to mention it. "Still, it was indelicate of me."

"Oh yes, when I think of Rose Weasley the word delicate always comes to mind first," he replied ironically.

"Hey!"

"Don't pretend you aren't surprised yourself that you haven't fallen down the stairs yet."

She rolled her eyes. There was a pause.

"Don't you have any other family?" she suggested, slightly awkwardly.

He gave a small, sad laugh. "Really, my grandparents are either dead, or scarred by Azkaban or in house-arrest. And my mother and her sister were completely estranged so I don't really have any family."

That sort of left Rose speechless. She had never really truly considered all of that. To her, being a Malfoy obviously meant wealth and popularity, (as well as an odious personality) but it was suddenly clear to her that having most of your family on the losing side of the war made thing so horribly difficult. Rose could barely imagine what her life would be like without her billions of cousins and Aunts and Uncles who had been there every step of her growing-up, always ready with their love and help.

"Anyway, what are you doing?"

"Just writing a letter."

"Oh really, to whom?" Some of his usual sneer had returned to his voice and Rose could tell that the deeply emotional moment was finished, this was back to their usual Weasley-Malfoy interaction; bickering: the interaction she felt so much more comfortable with. Especially as all she had heard as still swirling about in her head, still adding to her stupid emotions she couldn't tell heads or tail from.

"None of your business," she retorted.

"Not that pathetic boyfriend of yours, I hope."

"Hey! He's not pathetic at all, thank you very much. He's absolutely wonderful!"

He gave small laugh. "Oh really, incapable of duelling and more interested in Astronomy than in you? Sounds pathetic to me."

"None of those are true!" she shrieked.

"Sure. Keep telling yourself that. But you could do so much better."

"Oh really? And who do you suggest?"

"Oh I don't know, someone who could try to fix your clothes, maybe."

"Even I can't do that so your standards would be impossible!"

"You think so highly of yourself, Weasel."

"I'll think of myself the way I want to think of myself! Also, if you think Thomas is so pathetic, then why don' you just change my clothes back yourself, huh?"

"That had absolutely no logic in it; but maybe I will!"

"Yeah why don't you?" she shouted.

He muttered a spell under his breath and her clothes miraculously turned their usual colours. "Happy Christmas!" he sneered, "Don't forget to write to that stupid boyfriend of yours."

"Oh Merry Christmas to you to!" she screamed. "And I will!"

He slammed the door; which shook the entire building and she heard him stomp off into the attic. Rose was breathing heavily, but she felt strangely exhilarated. Her clothes were back to normal! Oh joy! He had turned her clothes back! But she was still absolutely furious at Malfoy! But then he had also bared his soul to her. But he had insulted Thomas!

Uuuuuuugh. Why, oh why was she so confused?

Oh and just great. She had managed to spill the ink in her hurry to get up to yell at the stupidly confusing Malfoy. She sighed and made a mental note to ask her mother to try her best tergeo before settling to her letter; frustrated at how few lines she managed to get out, feeling slightly at loss with what to say.

Dear Thomas,

Happy Christmas! I hope you are having an absolutely lovely holiday!

Mine is absolutely crazy. The family is absolutely crazy and everything is hectic and confusing. They even asked the stupid Malfoy over.

Anyway, I miss you a lot and can't wait to see you again,

Rose xx

P.S. You'll notice I'm writing with my lovely new quill.

A/N: What did you think? Malfoy has emotions: gasp! Who would've thought? Definitely not Rose. The next chapter should include a couple of fun thing; mainly: hair confusion. I hope to post more soon (I've now decided that every two weeks is the best solution, hopefully my muse will agree). Stay safe out there!

Butterflies765