This fic was written for a challenge on the message boards a few months ago. Uh… I might be wrong but I think it got second place? Well, it did well, that I do remember. Anyways, I felt like sharing something, especially since I haven't updated my fics in a while, so here you go!

A Very Malfoy Christmas

He had always gotten her something extra special for Christmas. Ever since they had begun dating in their sixth year at Hogwarts, and even before then, he had gotten her something nice. His first gift for her ever had been a solitary black ribbon tied to the stem of a fresh rose. Not as elegant as some gifts such as one time when it had been a dragon-skin cloak, very warm and comfortable for the winter season. He had gotten her sapphire earrings another time, saying that they brought out the blue tints in her eyes with them.

But this holiday there would be no beautiful gifts. No jewelry or clothing, no new piece of beautiful furniture like the armoire he had purchased for her last Christmas or a vacation like they had taken the year their son had first been accepted into Hogwarts.

"Mum?"

Narcissa Malfoy hadn't been paying much attention to anything ever since her husband Lucius had been taken into jail almost six months ago. She was frightened, something she would never admit, she was frightened that he might be stuck there. The Ministry was stupid, but with the aid of Albus Dumbledore there were sure to have increased security on Azkaban prison. The dementors were no longer keeping guard, so at least Lucius would not suffer the pain of being surrounded by hundreds of the depressing creatures.

But Narcissa's mind wandered to her husband every free moment she had. And she had quite a few free moments, really. Hopefully with her son Draco home for the winter holidays she would not have to worry as much.

However… with the task the Dark Lord had given him… Narcissa's sanity was on edge. With her husband in jail and her son marked for death things were not looking good for her. "Draco," Narcissa greeted her son at Platform Nine and Three Quarters curtly, wanting nothing more than to throw her arms around the boy, though he may have been sixteen, and cry out all her worries about him. But she could not. Narcissa Malfoy was not supposed to be so emotional, and her sanity was not supposed to be practically torn in half.

"Come along," she told the boy, almost as tall as she was now with the same sleek silvery hair, pointed face and greyish blue eyes. She sniffed arrogantly and her eyes set upon one Hermione Granger and nearby a boy, clearly muggle-born by the look of his parents, standing nearby. "We don't want to hang around this riffraff," she said the word while taking a good long glance at one of the younger students who was wearing some of most gruesome robes Narcissa had ever laid eyes on, "longer than need be. Your owl is already at home, waiting for your return. Let's go."

Without another word, Narcissa swiftly pointed her wand at Draco's trunk, levitated it into the air and left Draco holding his owl's empty cage in his left hand. They walked out of the station and into a dingy pub across the street. It wasn't a very common pub as it attracted many people of a… questionable sort. But it was a Wizarding pub, and Lucius was friends with the owner, a man as grimy as the pub itself.

"Hello Gary," Narcissa greeted the bartender. "Draco and I would like to use your fireplace to floo home."

"Of course Mrs. Malfoy, anything for Lucius' wife and son," Gary the bartender said with a smile that was wider than necessary and a jerk of the head towards the fireplace. Narcissa smiled, sure it looked more like a sneer, and walked over to the fireplace.

"I'll go first, dear, see if Tibby has cooked us up some lunch yet," Narcissa told her son, not daring to show the joy that her son was whole and healthy and in one piece in front of such a strange audience. She gave him a small smile, hoisted his trunk into the fireplace and threw some floo powder in. She stepped into the green flames and called out, "Malfoy Manor!"

Narcissa arrived back in the house to find Tibby the house-elf puttering around in the kitchen, throwing dishes into the sink and muttering lists under her breath and frowning. But as soon as she caught sight of Narcissa, soot-covered and holding a trunk just as sooty, Tibby beamed at her mistress.

"Mistress!" Tibby's high pitched voice squeaked. "Is young master back home? Oh how Tibby misses young master when he is at school!"

"You're not alone Tibby," Narcissa stated conversationally. Ever since Dobby's departure, Narcissa had made a point not to upset their second house-elf enough to make him go seek out Harry Potter, though Lucius and Draco did not follow her example and simply blamed Dobby's departure solely on his odd nature. "Is lunch about ready?"

Tibby gave a deep bow to her mistress. "Tibby believes it will be only a few more minutes before Tibby finishes making steak and kidney pie, young master's favorite!"

Narcissa smiled at the house-elf. "Thank you Tibby, just put it on the table and ring us when it's ready. And get me a towel would you?" Tibby nodded and began running towards a closet in the room, sezing a white cotton towel. Draco ambled into the room at that moment, just as soot-covered as Narcissa. "Make that two, Tibby." The house-elf nodded her over-sized head and gathered up a second towel, handing them to Narcissa and Draco. Narcissa thanked Tibby. Draco did not.

"Now let me get a good look at you Draco," Narcissa told her son, stepped back from him and observing his posture. "You look awfully tired… and you look like you're losing weight. Aren't you eating properly at that school? You'd think with all the house-elves they have that you'd be able to eat properly…"

"I'm fine mum," Draco insisted as Narcissa began moving his pale hair out of his even paler face to get a closer look.

"You look so pale dear… no matter; Tibby will feed you right up…" Narcissa trailed off as she took Draco's towel from him and set both his and hers down on a nearby table. "Draco… if you ever need any help, please, don't be so proud as to not ask for any. I… I don't want you to be punished for your father's mistakes…"

Draco didn't look at his mother, only at the ground and Narcissa sighed. "Draco, look at your mother!" She grabbed his chin and forced it to look up at her the short distance that still remained between their similar heights. "It is not an easy task you have been handed son, but I am sure… with a little help you could do it…"

But Draco only scowled and swiped his mother's hand away. "Are you listening to me Draco? You may be sixteen but you still are not of age and you still live under my house with my rules!" Draco stayed silent, staring at the ground. "Severus can help you Draco, he's right there with you…"

"He'll steal my glory from me mum!" Draco shouted at her, looking up at his mother's face now. "We need that glory for the Malfoy family, to redeem dad and to show that we're just as loyal to the Dark Lord as any followers. Snape just wants more credit than he deserves. He wants to steal this opportunity from me!"

Narcissa sighed again, wondering how she could break through that thick skull of her son's. "Do you want to end up like Lucius?" she hissed at him. "Do you want to end up rotting in Azkaban? The Dark Lord is powerful Draco, if you fail you may end up much worse!"

A high-pitched screech and the sound of a dishes breaking cut through the conversation and Tibby's timid voice from the dining room called out that lunch was prepared. "Let's eat," Narcissa commanded tonelessly. "We'll talk more later."

But they did not talk later. In fact, during the first week leading up to Christmas neither Draco nor Narcissa spoke to each other. Draco insisted that he was doing homework in his room by way of Tibby and his mother left him to it.

But it was hard for Narcissa to not barge into the room and demand that Draco, her only son, give his one and only mother the time of day. It was hard enough with Lucius locked up in jail, now Draco was locking himself up in his bedroom and if he didn't listen to her surely he would end up dead by the Dark Lord's hand. Tibby brought all of Draco's meals up to his room and by Christmas Eve neither the mother nor the son had spoken to each other since Draco's arrival home.

During the past twenty six years of Narcissa's life, she had spent Christmas Eve with Lucius and he would always give her that beautiful gift that took her breath away and made her proud to have such a man for her husband. Lucius was a smart, clever, rich and handsome man of good breeding and family, but the thing that made Narcissa love him as she did was how much he cared for her, even if he was not the most compassionate man. And he showed his love through these material things he gave to Narcissa.

In the past sixteen years since Draco had been born, Draco would come downstairs in the morning to open his presents, but once Narcissa and Lucius entered the room, Draco would always compliment his father on his good pickings for Narcissa's present.

But of course, this year Lucius was not home for Christmas. Once before he had not been home, but he hadn't been in jail and had instead sent his gift by owl post, a golden necklace with a rather large diamond snake intertwined with one part of the necklace. However, this Christmas Eve found Narcissa Malfoy not with her husband and certainly not with her son, but in the drawing room in front of a roaring fire, quite alone. On her ears were the sapphire earrings and around her neck was the golden necklace with the diamond snake. She was wearing the dragon-hide cloak and numerous other gifts adorned her features, all from Lucius. All Christmas gifts.

Narcissa Malfoy had grown up as Narcissa Black, a tough and rather beautiful girl who got what she wanted, was pureblood and loved by her family, all of them except for her despicable sister Andromeda and her younger obnoxious cousin Sirius. But they were not important. Narcissa was used to enjoying herself and one thing she always seemed to care about throughout her life was not what was morally right or wrong or what was beautiful or stunning, but family. And now she saw her family being torn apart.

This knowledge alone, that her son was doomed and her husband currently absent from her life, was not cheery news. Christmas Eve for Narcissa that year was a time for sorrow and sadness and possible loss of sanity. As she stared into a small candle on a table next to the couch she was sitting on, watching it melt, unsure how long she had been sitting there, she did not hear footsteps entering the drawing room.

"Mum?" whispered a voice and Narcissa whipped her head around to see Draco standing in the doorway. She smiled at her son and beckoned him to sit beside her.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you mum… I just like doing things myself," Draco blurted out as he took a seat next to her and Narcissa wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "I don't like that dad's locked up either mum and I know you certainly don't want something to happen to me too, but nothing will. I assure you, I can handle things. I'll take care of you until dad comes back."

Narcissa almost felt like crying, seeing her baby boy growing up before her eyes. Pledging himself to caring for his family. "You know Draco, I think that having you around, my one and only son, is a better gift than any of these stunning things your father bought for me. And I thank you Draco, but do please… don't do this alone. I couldn't stand if I lost you."

Draco sat up and looked into his mother's eyes. "I won't fail you mum, or the Dark Lord. I'll make sure everything is fine. I'll finish my mission, dad will be back and when the Dark Lord takes over we can live like a family again."

His mother smiled at him dearly. "But for now Draco, Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas mum."

XxXxX

A/N: The values of family, Voldemort supporter style huh? But anyways, I don't believe there are any major mistakes in there, or any that caught my eye as I reread it a few times. I hope it is enjoyable enough and fits nicely. And I hope the characters are in character. From the Draco that Moaning Myrtle describes, he seems that out of the light of his friends, and enemies in Harry's case, he's a bit of a softie. And who isn't a softie to their dear poor mother on Christmas Eve? Well, Percy, but he doesn't count.