December Prompt #2: Holly


Leaning over the table, Thorfinn poked the napkin topper with a small frown on his face. "What the fuck is this?"

Barty immediately reached over the table and smacked his hand away from the decoration, lest Thorfinn destroyed it. "Are you blind? That's holly"–he gestured to the tiny branches with equally tiny berries on the napkin–"and those are evergreens."

"I'm assuming evergreens are… ever green," Rabastan said with a snicker. He was trying to stop his chair from tipping over by extending his arms out on either side of him. His face was scrunched up in concentration, his tongue poking out, and his brow slightly furrowed. "Hey, look! I'm not falling!"

"Yes, you are, and that joke wasn't the academic flex you think it is," Regulus deadpanned before kicking Rabastan's chair and smirking when the dark-haired man fell onto the ground with a loud crash.

"You're such a jerk! You piece of shit," Rabastan snapped, whipping out his wand and pointing it at Regulus. "I challenge you to a duel."

"I don't have time for duels. I need to finish decorating," Regulus said offhandedly. "Go, bother someone else, preferably someone who has time."

"You're no fun," Rabastan grumbled but walked away in search of other entertainment. He caught sight of Lucius's retreating back and immediately leapt onto the man with a loud 'hi-yah!', terrifying Lucius and making him scream.

Thorfinn promptly ignored that meltdown in progress and turned his attention to Barty again, who was carefully placing more holly in vases and topping them with floating candles. "What are we even doing celebrating Christmas for?"

"The Dark Lord wants to celebrate Christmas, so we'll be celebrating Christmas. He said something about forced proximity leading to better relationships," Barty said smoothly. He tilted his head to squint at the vase. "Do you think this looks fine or should I try the glazing spell again?"

"It's fine," Thorfinn said without bothering to look. After all, it was just a dumb plant; what was the use of making it look pretty? They were only going to throw it out later.

"I think I should add in another branch," Barty muttered to himself, reaching into the vase and adjusting the berries to make room for one more branch of holly.

Thorfinn rolled his eyes and turned to see what Regulus was doing. He found the younger man placing the sticks with red berries in a china coffee pot. "What are you all doing with those berries? Why are they everywhere?"

Regulus and Barty shared a quick look before Regulus turned back to his work and Barty said, "They're pretty."

Thorfinn stared at them with disbelief. "You're using them because they look pretty? There's no symbolism or hidden meaning behind the berries or anything?"

"Thorfinn, do you think we really care about the symbolism of berries?" Regulus asked calmly.

"Well… no."

"Then, shut up and let us finish decorating this table. Merlin knows why the Dark Lord wants us to pretend we're a happy family sitting down for Christmas dinner," he grumbled, pushing his black hair out of his eyes and leaning over to continue his work.

"It is strange, isn't it? And why are you two working on the decorations? Shouldn't the lady of the manor be doing this instead?" Thorfinn muttered, tipping his chair back enough so that he could rest his feet on the table. He crossed his arms behind his back and stared up at the crystal chandelier to think of a reason why their Dark Lord wanted a Christmas dinner with his most loyal followers.

He had just concluded that the Dark Lord was going to tell them he had a huge plan when Lucius's screech reverberated through the manor. "Get this thing off me!"

"I'm not a thing!" Rabastan yelled back just as loudly before there was a loud thud and a crash that made Thorfinn wince. Regulus, Barty, and Thorfinn looked up towards the stairs and waited for Lucius to yell out a reply, but to their surprise, there was none.

Regulus was halfway out of his seat to check on them before Rabastan yelled, "I think I just killed Lucius!"

"What?" Thorfinn and Barty shot out of their seats and sprinted up the stairs after Regulus towards Rabastan's voice. They found Lucius lying on the floor, his platinum-blond hair spread out around his bleeding head, his mouth slightly open.

"Oops?" Rabastan said, crouched beside Lucius with a sheepish expression on his face.

Regulus began to smack Rabastan repeatedly while Barty got to his knees and checked Lucius's pulse. Thorfinn leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, not at all bothered by the scene. And unless the blame fell on him somehow, Thorfinn gave no fucks as to what the others did in their free time.

"He's not dead," Barty said, looking over his shoulder. Regulus took the opportunity to smack Rabastan just once more for good measure, and the latter scowled and rubbed his now-tender arm. Barty rolled his eyes and Levitated Lucius up. "He's just fainted."

"Wait till Cissa hears about this," Regulus said with a devious smirk.

"Ooh, can I tell her?" Rabastan asked, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. "I'm the one who almost bashed his head in."

"You should tell Narcissa that when you meet her, too," Regulus said lightly, and Thorfinn hid his smirk as Rabastan nodded like an overexcited puppy and ran off to do just that. Narcissa was going to kill him and Regulus would relish in her anger.

Regulus sighed and turned to them. "Barty, take Lucius to his room. Thorfinn and I will finish the decorating. We still need to decorate the tree and place the presents underneath."

"I'll take Lucius to his room," Thorfinn said quickly, scooping a floating Lucius into his arms. He would rather carry the blond man like a dainty princess than decorate for the Christmas dinner.

"You do that. Make sure to mess up his hair, too. He'll hate that," Regulus instructed with a smirk playing on his lips.

"Draw on his face," Barty suggested immediately. "Write something crude on his forehead with permanent ink if you're feeling brave, too."

"Will do." Thorfinn would never say no to doing something like that. Lucius may have been one of the Dark Lord's favourites, but to the Death Eaters, he was still the butt of most jokes—Rabastan was next, but that was only because he was the easiest to manipulate.

Thorfinn carried Lucius into the nearest bedroom and dropped him onto the bed with a soft thump. He smirked as he pulled out a quill from the dresser's drawer and began drawing a moustache on the unconscious blond's face. He drew a large dick on Lucius's forehead and tiny hearts around it, snickering under his breath. He enchanted it to only wear off a week from now and even made sure it darkened every time Lucius tried to remove it.

He knew it was a childish prank that would most likely not amuse the Dark Lord, but he couldn't help himself. Lucius truly was the bane of everyone's existence with his sucky 'purer-and-richer-and-superior-than-thou-in-every-way' attitude.


"Lucius… What is that on your face?" the Dark Lord asked, staring at Lucius's mask. Nearby, the other Death Eaters snickered under their breath and muffled their laughter.

"I was just thinking the mask adds to the beauty of the evening, sire," Lucius said smoothly, but his voice trembled just a little at the end.

"Remove it. We are all family here, aren't we?" the Dark Lord said as sweetly as he could.

Lucius hesitated but slowly untied the mask and let it drop into his hands. He didn't dare meet the Dark Lord's eyes, but fortunately for him, he didn't have to.

"Your face looks uglier than usual," Bellatrix said with a cackle, and Lucius shot his sister-in-law a glare.

"Put the mask back on," the Dark Lord said tiredly, and Lucius breathed a sigh of relief before tying the mask on again. The Dark Lord looked around the table at the silent Death Eaters, who were all trembling with barely suppressed laughter, and sighed. "You should be grateful I am in such a festive mood today."

"We are, my lord," the Death Eaters chorused, a bit relieved at his generosity.

"Now that we are all here, let us enjoy our dinner," he said before waving his hands in a move so much like Dumbledore's that the gathered Death Eaters had to look away from him before he could read their minds.

The sound of the spoons clinking against the porcelain plates rang through the room with soft murmurs of awkward conversations. Lucius tried to ignore the snickers around him by focusing on drinking his champagne. Near him, Bellatrix sat schmoozing the Dark Lord, giggling and batting her eyes at him.

It was the most awkward Christmas party Thorfinn had been to, but he wasn't going to ignore the food. He happily piled his plate high with everything that was available before he gobbled everything down with the champagne. Beside him, Barty and Regulus nibbled on their food, trying to show everyone they had manners—unlike Thorfinn who had just let out a loud belch.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Regulus hissed, elbowing Thorfinn in the ribs. "Can't you eat like a civilised person?"

"No." Thorfinn kept on chewing on his food loudly just to annoy the people around him. He took a large bite out of the apple pie and almost sprayed Regulus with the crumbs.

"I'm going to hex you if you don't keep your mouth shut," Regulus hissed, wiping away the crumbs from his hair.

"Bring it on, Pint-Sized," Thorfinn taunted, and Regulus gritted his teeth and let his hand inch closer to his wand.

"No fighting at the table," the Dark Lord said loudly, placing his goblet of wine down with a distinctive thump.

"We're sorry, my lord," Regulus said smoothly. "He started it."

Thorfinn gaped at him for snitching on him like that. He apologized to the Dark Lord before leaning in and whispering, "I'll get you for this."

"No, you won't," Regulus said through the forced smile plastered on his face.

Thorfinn smiled and began to plot.


Meanwhile, Voldemort sat at the head of the table, sipping the eggnog he had demanded Lucius's house-elves to make for them. He looked around at the people silently eating dinner and wondered when he could open the presents he had forced his followers to get him.

He had disguised his birthday party as a Christmas dinner just because he didn't want them to think of him as an egotistical master; he wanted to remain benevolent and charismatic in his followers' eyes.

The moment the food was finished (mostly because Thorfinn ate like a pregnant giant), Voldemort got to his feet and announced, "Let us retire to the living room where we shall open our presents."

His followers reluctantly shuffled into the room after him and took their seats around the fireplace. Voldemort glanced at the Christmas tree that was laden with holly and tinsel and glass ornaments, but his attention was drawn to the presents underneath the boughs. He politely remarked, "The tree looks nice."

"Thank you, my lord," Regulus and Barty said in unison, bowing at the waist.

"Who would like to do the honours of giving us our presents?" Voldemort asked, and only one hand immediately went up. Voldemort nodded. "Very well, Rabastan. Hand us our presents."

Rabastan hurried over to the tree and began sorting the presents. "This one's for you, my lord, and so is this one and this one and this one and this…" He went on handing the wrapped boxes to Voldemort, who was secretly delighted that he was getting all the presents he hadn't been able to get as a child.

"You all shouldn't have," Voldemort lied in the sincerest voice he could muster. He quickly counted the boxes in front of him and smiled, his chest puffing at the sight of the pile. "I shall now open them."

"Open mine first, please," Rabastan said with a grin.

Voldemort thought the Lestrange child was probably the only one who was excited about the party, so he decided to open his first. He found a badly wrapped box with rainbow-coloured glitter spelling out the tag 'FROM: Rabastan Lestrange' in barely legible letters.

When he picked it up, the glitter spilt on his lap. For a second, Voldemort wanted to Crucio Rabastan for his insolence, but he reminded himself that the boy was just that: a mere boy—and he didn't know any better. It was their first Christmas together, after all, and Voldemort didn't want to torture anyone at the moment.

So, he simply cast a wandless spell on his black robes to clean them before carefully opening the box, making sure not to tear the paper. He finally opened the box and peeked inside.

A black shirt lay inside the box. Voldemort pulled it out and found the words 'World's Best Evil Leader' written in bold, glittering letters on the front. Even though the glitter was a bit… much, he was strangely overwhelmed by Rabastan's compliment. He nodded solemnly. "I like this; it's inventive but to the point. Thank you, Rabastan."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you like it!" Rabastan sat down beside Regulus.

Voldemort opened the next present, which was from Antonin. It was a leather journal, and when he opened it, he found all sorts of new spells and curses that Antonin had made especially for him. Voldemort smiled and nodded. "This is a wonderful present, Antonin. I am pleased with your efforts."

"Thank you, my Lord."

The next present was a piece of parchment that said, 'You may not have the world yet, but you have my heart.'

Voldemort stared at the parchment and decided he wasn't too mad at the lack of a present since he knew her declaration was genuine. "Thank you, Bellatrix."

"She's so desperate it makes me want to throw up. I mean, get a life, witch," Lucius muttered under his breath, and Thorfinn and Barty absentmindedly nodded, agreeing with him for once.

Voldemort ignored the whispers, but he too agreed with Lucius. Bellatrix was crazy enough to do whatever he wanted, but couldn't she see he wasn't interested in her? Besides, she was a married witch whose husband was right there! Sometimes, Voldemort had to wonder how insane purebloods truly were.

"I got you something better, my lord," Lucius boasted, handing him the biggest box from the pile. He was still wearing that ridiculous peacock mask of his, which secretly amused Voldemort—but he didn't want to make the boy insecure.

Voldemort pulled off the lid and peeked inside. "There is nothing in here."

"That's because my present cannot be contained in such a small box, my lord," Lucius said, preening under Voldemort's gaze. "I have not only bought the new Minister for Magic for you, but I have also named you the new master of the manor we Malfoys own in Virginia Water, Surrey."

Thorfinn choked on the Firewhisky he was drinking by the shelf, and even Barty and Regulus stared at Lucius with disbelief. Bellatrix was pouting on the couch, her arms crossed as she glared at the preening blond for daring to take such a drastic step.

Voldemort understood. The boy was just trying to gain more favour with him. He was pleased with Lucius's ambitions. He recited the words politely, "Thank you, Lucius. You are too kind. I appreciate your presents."

"Thank you, my lord, for choosing our manor to host your Christmas dinner at," Lucius said graciously.

Now, he was just being pretentious.

Voldemort kept the grimace off his face and continued opening his presents. Regulus had given him a knitted sweater that looked like a house-elf had made it, Thorfinn had given him a large bottle of Campbell's Finest Old Whiskey, and Severus had sent him a vial of dragon's blood from Spain as he was unable to attend the dinner party.

"Thank you, everyone," Voldemort said after he had finished pretending to 'ooh' and 'aah' over their presents. "Now that we have finished unwrapping our presents"–he ignored the incredulous looks most of them shared–"we shall play a game! What fun it shall be!"

"I apologize, my lord, but I have someone to torture at home," Thorfinn said smoothly, getting to his feet. He bowed low at the waist and said his goodbyes as quickly as he could without seeming rude.

The others did the same, giving half-arsed excuses, and left the manor. Only Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Lucius were left behind. Voldemort turned to them and said, "Who is up for a game of Monopoly?"

Bellatrix bounced in her seat, excitement on her face. "What do we do in the game? Do we torture people? Kill them? Ooh, maybe we can chop them up and—"

"It's clearly a business game, Bella," Lucius said immediately. "Am I right, my lord?"

"Yes, you're right, Lucius. I've heard this game creates special bonds between people," Voldemort said, pulling out the shrunken box from his pocket and placing it on the table. "Now, I shall be the bank and…"