Christmas at Malfoy Manor was one of Draco's favorite times of the year. The presents were, of course, a major draw of the holiday, but as he had gotten older, he had started to appreciate the ambiance as well. The house was beautifully decorated, a fire burned in every hearth, and the silence seemed less empty and more peaceful.
Draco walked down the hall toward his bedroom when he passed by the sitting room and glimpsed his mother reading on the couch. He stopped in the doorway and poked his head in. It was dark outside the windows and the only light in the room came from the fire crackling in the hearth, garland wrapped with white lights across the mantle, and the Christmas tree in the corner decorated with silver ornaments and gold ribbon. It was cozy.
He smiled and quietly went inside. He sneaked up behind his mother and slipped his arms around her shoulders.
"Oh!" came her soft gasp of surprise, and then she pressed her cheek to his and laid her hand on his arms crossed beneath her chin then squeezed. "Hello, my love."
"Hey, mum," he whispered.
As a young boy, Draco had been taught to address his parents properly. Lucius had always been "father" to him and Narcissa was, of course, his "mother". But, when it was just the two of them, sometimes she was "mum".
"Reading?" he asked.
"Mhmm." She showed him the cover. The Copper Stones by D S Drummer. It was a popular serialization about a wizard who solved mysteries. His mother loved mystery novels.
"Good?"
"I've only just started," she replied, "but it's very interesting so far."
"Well, don't let me interrupt." Draco kissed her cheek and started to leave when suddenly she twisted around and called after him. He turned back around.
"I invited Sagun and Amaris to the dinner tomorrow night," she said.
Draco's happy demeanor instantly evaporated. "What?" he hissed. "Why?"
His mother seemed surprised by his question. "Why ever not? I thought you got along well over the summer."
Draco inwardly winced. He wouldn't mind that she was coming if it weren't for all of the other guests in attendance—relatives and friends, including the Crabbes, Goyles, and Notts, and their children. While two of his friends could be silenced, Theo would certainly make mocking her an event and Draco wasn't ready for his parents to know she was counted among the blood traitors.
"You're trying to match us, aren't you?" he blurted. "She's a Hufflepuff."
It sounded lame even to his ears, but he didn't know how to argue her attendance without giving up the game himself.
His mother laughed. "And Hufflepuffs are fiercely loyal," she said, and the underlying message was quite clear: she could be loyal to you. He frowned, finding her encouragement unexpected. She tsked, amused. "Honestly, Draco… Hogwarts houses aren't everything."
"Well it won't stop the others from giving her a hard time about it…"
His mother gasped. "Do they tease her?" she asked, seemingly offended on Grey's behalf. What would she think if she knew that he was one of the main contributors to that teasing? "Why, whatever for?"
Draco shrugged as he slowly came around the couch and dropped into the adjacent chair, wracking his brain for a reason to uninvite her.
"Well, I expect them to be on their best behavior tomorrow," she continued. "It is a formal dinner, after all."
Draco absently lifted his brows in thought, gazing unfocused at the rug. A formal dinner, yes, and Grey would no doubt be wearing more ridiculous shoes that—No… A formal dinner. Grey would be wearing something elegant, something that revealed just how beautiful she had become, and Theo, Crabbe, and Goyle would be there to see it. And then they would know…
Draco looked up at his mother in alarm. She absolutely had to uninvite her. Had to! He didn't have to worry about Crabbe or Goyle getting any bright ideas, but Theo Nott was another story entirely.
His mother frowned. "What's wrong, Draco?" She closed her book. "Do you really not want her to come?" She was disappointed at the thought. It was evident in her voice. She wanted Grey to be there. But why? Was it really just to match them?
"Why now?" Draco asked. "You said her parents were your friends, but she's been out of our lives since they died. Why are you bringing her back in now?"
An emotion he had never before seen on his mother's face appeared. Guilt. She looked away, towards the crackling fire. She didn't answer immediately and he didn't dare rush her.
"Do you remember those weekdays when your father would take you to Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour?" she asked.
He slowly nodded. Those were some of his fondest memories with his father. They would get ice-cream then visit Broomstix, just the two of them, and chat about Quidditch all afternoon. The trips ended so abruptly, which is exactly how they had started. He was only nine years old. Nine… The connection clicked into place as his mother continued her story.
"Those were the days that I would visit Amaris," his mother said. "It was just after her parents had…passed. They had brought her home to Sagun's. The poor thing was absolutely inconsolable, was convinced that her parents were hiding from her and…and if we would just tell her where they were, they could be together again. So, I would go to her to try to comfort her, to help her understand. And every time I walked through that door, her eyes would light up with such hope." Her composure cracked and he thought he saw tears in her eyes. "You see, she had gotten it into her head that they were here, at our house, waiting to take her home. It was the last familiar place she remembered them being. So, every time I walked into that room, she would beg me, 'Please, Aunt Cissy, take me home with you.' And it would break my heart to leave her there, screaming after me."
Draco shifted uncomfortably at the horrible memory, his imagination running wild with thoughts of a tiny Grey, wild with anguish. She had been a skinny child, like a little doll. He pictured her in the yellow sundress she used to wear in Ireland, sobbing on the floor.
"After a while, I…I couldn't face her," his mother continued, her voice breaking. "I couldn't bear to see the betrayal in her eyes every time I walked away without her. I stopped going." She inhaled deeply, quickly composing herself. "I told myself I was hindering her recovery. That it was for her benefit." She scoffed, an almost imperceptible gesture. "I told myself I would see her again after she had more time to heal. Six months became a year. One year became two. Then you were off to Hogwarts. I saw her on the train, just briefly. She didn't see me, but I saw her—for just a moment—a normal, smiling girl." She frowned. "And I had abandoned her."
Draco grimaced at the anguish in her voice. He had only seen her this emotional once… He had returned home from a visit to Florean Fortescue's with his father and found his mother crying on her knees in the foyer. His father had scooped her up and whisked her away, and when the next week came, they did not go back to Diagon Alley for ice-cream.
"Last Christmas, however, Sagun sent us a card of he and Amaris. She looked so lovely, so grown up. I was so pleased to know she was well. But then I saw there was a second card inside the first. From her. It carried a simple Christmas greeting and well-wishes, but with a photograph of her mother and I from our school days. She thought I would like to have it. That's when I realized she had forgiven me." His mother smiled. "I contacted Sagun that spring to ask after her. That summer, they came to our home."
Draco cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "Then, are you trying to match us because you feel guilty?" he asked, unsure.
"Of course not," she tutted. "Your happiness is the most important thing in the world to me, Draco. I would not match you if you did not like the girl." She raised a single slender brow. "Do you not like her?"
No, is what he should have said. Instead, he felt his face grow warm as he looked at the fire and shrugged.
"That's perfectly fine," she said, and he could hear the amusement in her tone. "You are young. You're allowed to be undecided about your future bride. Besides, I invited her because I wanted to see her, not solely for your benefit."
He flushed even deeper as he looked at her, smiling victoriously. "Mother!" he complained, just as his father walked into the room.
"Invited whom?" he asked, looking between his son and his wife. Draco immediately straightened in his chair as his father bent to kiss his mother's brow.
"Amaris Grey," she answered.
"Ah." He nodded knowingly. "Lovely girl. Smart, too. Does well in all of her classes, so I've been told."
Draco rolled his eyes at his parents' mischief. "Fine," he muttered and pushed himself up. "I'm going to bed."
"Draco!" his mother called. "Wait." She got up from the couch, went to the Christmas tree, and selected a tiny box wrapped in silver. "Here." He handed it to him. "Give this to Amaris."
He frowned. "Why?"
"It would be nice if it came from you."
"But it's not from me."
"It was from the family. Besides, I surprised you with her attendance."
Draco took the box. "What is it?"
His mother smiled. "Give it to her and you'll find out," she said. He made a face and turned to go. "Goodnight, my love," she called.
"Goodnight, son," his father said.
"Night," he threw back, and went to his room where he tossed the box on his dresser and spent the hours it took him to fall asleep plotting how to keep his idiot friends from outing Grey, planning how to keep Theo away from her, and imagining how she would look dressed up for a formal dinner party.
Author's Note: I really enjoy writing Draco's family scenes. Rowling states that the Malfoys really love each other, and I wanted to capture that. Especially Draco and Narcissa, who seem like they have a very close bond. I think they are probably a pretty normal family.
