Chapter 12: Pride and Joy

December brought an uncompromising chill along with it. Draco couldn't be happier when the sheets of freezing rain that fell over the castle and grounds turned instead to snow. It remained tentative until about a week before the holidays would start. Then, a massive dump that Draco watched with a keen sort of longing through the classroom windows made it clear that anything green would be well-hidden until the new year.

At breakfast on the last day of term, a note arrived on Juno's leg:

Good morning darling,

I wanted to write you a little heads up before you come home tomorrow. Your father has something he's very eager to show you. I'm uncertain if it's to your interest, but please be polite if it isn't. It means a lot to him.

I can't wait to see you! I'll be at the train platform with bells on.

All my love,
Mum

"God, I hope not literally," Draco said about the bells.

"Huh?" Crabbe replied.

"Never mind."

They only had History of Magic and Potions to get through before they were out of lessons for the holidays. After Potions, Draco was just as keen as Crabbe and Goyle to celebrate their freedom with a hot meal.

There was a jam in the Entrance Hall. Ignorant that they caused a hold up, Potter and his ilk chatted with Hagrid. Even without the massive tree in his arms, Hagrid would've blocked the Great Hall doors.

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Draco asked, annoyed. Weasley's red head reappeared from within the tree branches. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose. That hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Anger rippled through Weasley's face, riding a wave of red. He jumped at Draco before Crabbe and Goyle could react, but it didn't matter anyway.

"Weasley!" Professor Snape snapped from the dungeon entrance.

Draco smoothed down his robes where Weasley had grabbed them.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," Hagrid rumbled in a deep voice. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

Professor Snape looked at Draco, who fought against averting his gaze. He'd behaved ever since his and Nott's detention, and this didn't go against the point of that anyway. Weasley wasn't a Slytherin.

"Be that as it may," Professor Snape said, and Draco knew he'd followed the same thought process. "Fighting is against school rules, Hagrid. Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Hagrid still didn't move himself and the tree out of the way, so Draco made a point to rough up the branches. And here he didn't think he could feel anymore in the Christmas spirit.

The rest of the Slytherin first-years sat together at the end of the house table with their heads together. Daphne beamed when she saw them, and gestured them over.

"We're talking about the solstice gala," she said. "It's just too bad Tracey and Sophie aren't coming."

"I don't think my father knows your parents," Draco said, skirting around the fact that Muggles and Muggle-borns would never be invited to Malfoy Manor. "He knew who Blaise's stepfather was when I told him, and our mums are friends now. . ."

Blaise nodded, probably having heard the same thing in his post.

"Are you going to stay the night?" Draco asked Blaise.

"Er, maybe?" he replied with a glance at Nott. "If I'm allowed. I would have to ask my mum."

"Are you?" Draco directed at Nott.

"Haven't decided yet." Nott shrugged. "I will for sure if Blaise is allowed."

The dull ache of having cocked things up irreparably with Nott returned to Draco. It used to always be the four of them on the night of the Malfoy solstice galas that made up beds on the floor in Draco's chamber. The parties went late—usually until the wee hours—and a sleepover meant that the Notts, Crabbes, and Goyles didn't have to rush to get their boys home to bed. A massive brunch the next morning when all their parents came by again to collect them was practically tradition.

After classes for the older students finished for term, focusing on anything other than music, dancing, people, food, and drink in the Slytherin common room became next to impossible. Draco pushed himself to stay awake until midnight. Hazel Selwyn came by as he nearly drifted off on one of the sofas.

"Go to bed, love," she told him with a gentle push toward the boys' dorms. "You've a big day tomorrow."

If the other boys were far behind, Draco had no idea. He fell asleep right away. They were all slow getting going in the morning. Combined with a late start, they ended up running for carriages to take them down to Hogsmeade Station. Draco wasn't the only one that ended up kipping on the train.

He was still groggy when they pulled in at London. Like a switch, Draco perked as soon as he glimpsed his parents. He'd seen his father a week ago after his last governors' meeting for the term, but the nearly-four months since Mum kissed him goodbye suddenly felt their true length. Draco returned her hug with a tight squeeze, not even minding the kiss she planted on the top of his head.

"It's wonderful to see you, darling." Mum's eyes squinted when she beamed at him. "Come, let's go home. The manor house is nearly ready for tonight. The elves only need to do the finishing touches."

Father took Draco's trunk so that they could all Apparate. With his hand in Mum's, Draco was pulled through a tight, dark tube out of the platform. A split-second later, he had reappeared along with her seventy-five miles to the west.

The smell of pine hit Draco before he opened his eyes. He and Mum stood on the Atrium's ground floor, looking toward the grand staircase. Two forty-foot, fully decorated evergreens stood on either side. Even though the sun had already set, all the way up to the second floor sparkled and glittered with tinsel, icicles, elaborate ornaments, and flowers. The chamber orchestra had already arrived, by the sound of it. They rehearsed in the ballroom above.

"What do you think?" Mum asked. "Looks lovely, doesn't it?"

"Mhm."

A longing clogged Draco's chest. He'd grown so used to Hogwarts' dark stone walls that he forgot how lavish white marble and polished mahogany made a place. He always loved the manor house at Christmas anyway, but coming home sharpened his sense of fancy.

Father appeared with a small pop. He set Draco's levitating trunk down. "Come upstairs with me. I have something I want to show you."

Mum subtly caught Draco's hand, squeezing it in reminder of her letter. Father was definitely excited—more so than Christmas usually did for him. Draco would have thought he'd be sad, considering this was his first one without Grandfather, but he'd clearly found a distraction.

Father led Draco to the first floor, and into the master suite. The double doors came into a corridor, down which Father beckoned Draco to the right. Past Father's bathroom and dressing room was a sitting room.

There was a small enclosure set up in a corner. Draco lingered close to the crackling fireplace while his father unlatched the gate and picked something up about the size of a chicken. It looked soft and was whiter than snow. Draco's eyes widened when it made a sound like a whistle.

His father glowed with pride. He held the bird against his chest, stroking its small head with his free hand. "What do you think?"

"What is it?"

"A peachick," his father said. "A baby peacock. His name is Vega."

"Can I pet him?" Draco asked. "How old is he?"

"Just a few months." Father stepped up closer. "Here, pet him like this."

Vega was very soft, and very, very cute. He whistled again, then closed his eyes when Draco gently ran the tips of his fingers over him. Eventually, Vega's neck shortened and his body rounded out as he slumped into sleep. Father braced Vega's breast with his hand.

"Your mother's been teasing me all week for packing him around like this." Father gazed fondly down at Vega. "He gets lonely if I don't, though. I think he's still old enough to miss his pride. Besides, I'd like him to stay tame. What's the point of a pet if you're just going to banish it to wander the grounds once it's mature?"

"Is he going to stay inside?" Draco had seen fully-grown peacocks before. They weren't too big for a house, especially one like theirs.

"Your mother isn't completely sold, I believe just because it's a novel idea. It's not like your grandfather has anything to say about it anymore."

"He wouldn't let you have one?" Draco asked.

"Any pet when I was younger, other than an owl. Those at least serve a functional purpose." Father took Vega back to his enclosure and set him carefully where he'd been sleeping before. "You would have hit the same wall, had you ever asked for something like a cat."

Now Draco thought about it, he had never seen owls anywhere in the house other than the owlery or the office. The only exception was if they waited at Draco's bedroom window to either deliver something or be fitted with a response to what they'd brought.

Father sent Draco along to get ready for the party. Draco's trunk had beaten him upstairs to his chamber. He picked it up to move into the bedroom, but hesitated with a glance back at the one sofa. Pillows and blankets had already been brought along for the sleepover. Draco was content to count five of each. Blaise must have gotten permission, and Nott must have agreed to stay as well, then.

Draco had only the jacket left to pull on for his dress robes when a knock came at his chamber door. It was his mum that peeked into his bedroom when invited in.

"Oh good, you're just about ready," she said. "Guests will begin to arrive in about half an hour."

"All right."

Mum looked like she floated in the silvery blue gown she wore. It had nude-coloured bits at the top, making it look like the white flowers on the straps alone covered her shoulders. White jewels all over it glittered in the room's lamplight. Mum stood behind Draco in front of his mirror and smoothed down the shoulders of his dress shirt.

"You look really nice, Mum," Draco told her.

The radiant way she smiled made it hard to believe his mother could even be in her thirties. That seemed so young all of a sudden.

"Thank you, darling." Mum smoothed his hair next, being careful not to muss it since he'd already combed it. "Your father said I looked timeless."

"Yeah." Father said it better than Draco could.

Mum was content to hang out and chat while Draco finished up. He'd missed real conversation with her, for it was incredibly difficult to replicate in letter form when it took so long for owls to get back and forth to Hogwarts. They left Draco's chamber together with their arms linked. Father waited for them on the grand staircase's intermediate landing. He wore dress robes similar to Draco's.

Father offered his arm to Mum. "Shall we?"

Draco stood with his parents in the lobby so that he could greet guests with them. Father banished coats to be hung by an elf, and Mum lavished compliments upon the gowns that passed them by.

The first person to arrive who was closer to Draco's age than his parents' was Blaise. He peered with interest at the portraits that hung on the walls, attention coming to Draco when his stepfather enthusiastically greeted Father in an accent far more lilted than Blaise ever allowed himself to show. Mr Domatazzi kissed Mum on each cheek before extending a hand to Draco as well. Blaise's mum looked a lot like him, Draco thought. Their eyes were different, was the only thing. Blaise's were deep brown, whereas Mrs Zabini's were the colour of honey.

They grew incredibly warm when she smiled down at Draco. She was very tall—taller than her husband, even. "Draco, such a pleasure. I've heard so much about you from your mother."

"I've heard nice things about you too," Draco said.

Mum touched Draco's back. "Why don't you show Blaise around, darling?"

Relieved, Draco left his post with an invitation for Blaise to follow. They only made it as far as the Atrium before stopping. Blaise's lips were parted as he craned his neck to see right up to the skylights.

"Theo said your house was pretty nice," Blaise said. "I didn't think it was so big."

Draco puffed his chest out a little. "It's always decorated nicely for Christmas too, mind. And we don't always have an orchestra playing."

Blaise laughed.

"Are you hungry?" Draco asked. "I could show you the dining room first."

"Yeah, I saved my appetite."

Draco led Blaise through one of the open sets of double doors leading into the formal dining room. The twenty-two chairs that normally surrounded the table had been removed. Every sort of hors d'oeuvres, pastry, dessert, and finger food imaginable was spread across it. The two of them grabbed plates. They excuse-me'd and pardon-me'd their way up and down, then took some punch from a serving bowl. An enchanted ladle poured it into their goblets.

Draco showed Blaise where some of the ground-floor toilets were, pointed toward the pool, and then showed him the game lounge. Usually by the end of the night, some gamblers would have found their way in here for a card game. Wizard's billiards was popular with the teenagers.

Draco and Blaise headed up a floor. The ballroom was the primary focus for guests right now, and some had found their way to the garden room and terrace as well. The library was empty, and Draco pointed out the cigar room (which they were not allowed into). Up on the second floor, the two of them leaned against the gallery railing overlooking the Atrium.

"That's the playroom over there," Draco said through a mouthful of profiterole. "Mostly the little kids play in there. These are my rooms here."

Draco led Blaise in, leaving the door open. Blaise looked around while idly chewing a cracker. His gaze landed on a black bag in front of all the pillows and blankets.

"Looks like my things found the right place," he commented.

They sat in front of the fireplace, taking a brief reprieve from the rest of the manor house. The murmur of voices and footsteps grew steadily more busy as guests streamed in. Rambunctious screams came from somewhere—families with young children had started to arrive in greater numbers as well. Draco looked over at his chamber door a few times, wondering when some kids searching for the playroom would accidentally wander in.

He opened his mouth to say something at the sight of movement in the corner of his vision, but it was only Daphne.

"Oh, here you are." She stood in the doorway. "All right if I come in?"

"Yes," Draco said.

He and Blaise turned the chairs they sat in to face the room at large. They were still moving the sofas to form a circle when Nott found them next, followed by Pansy and Millicent. Crabbe and Goyle came in as they all settled.

"Didn't you all get something to eat downstairs?" Crabbe asked.

"I only meant to bring Astoria up to the playroom." Daphne smiled when Goyle held his plate out to her. She took a spanakopita. "Thank you."

"Draco showed me around, since I've never been here," Blaise said. "This was the end of the tour."

"Well, I'm hungry." Pansy stood. "Is this where we're hanging out, then?"

Draco gathered his empty plate. "Wherever. We don't have to play with the little kids anymore, but maybe the older ones will let us hang out with them."

A term spent at Hogwarts gave Draco a solid idea of how much overlap there existed between the Slytherin common room and the crowd that attended their galas. The first housemates they all ran into were some fourth-year girls that had come up to check on their younger siblings in the playroom. On the first floor standing against the gallery railing were the Selwyn twins and their friends. Flint and his weren't far away, on the opposite side. They all had their heads together and glanced frequently over at the girls. Draco wondered which of them was trying to drum up the nerve to ask someone to join them on the ballroom floor.

Whoever it was, Draco never managed to catch Flint's gaze enough to exchange a wave. When they all turned toward the formal dining room at the bottom of the grand staircase, Blaise gasped and took a step back. He bumped into Crabbe, who didn't move at all. Blaise sidestepped instead, hanging off the nearest newel post.

"What's up?" Millicent asked him. "Avoiding someone?"

Draco followed Blaise's gaze when he peered again at the doorway they'd been heading toward.

"That's Cassidy Shafiq," Blaise said.

It was; Father chatted with him, both with wine in hand.

"Mr Shafiq always comes," Draco replied. "Do you want me to introduce you?"

"No."

"Oh, don't be shy!" Pansy held Blaise's shoulders from behind and gave him an encouraging smile. "He's really nice. I'm going to say hi when we walk by."

Blaise still wasn't sure. He fell behind Crabbe and Goyle, using them as a visual obstruction as the lot of them approached. Father noticed them first, lowering his chin at Draco in greeting.

"Ah, hello!" Mr Shafiq's eyebrows rose when he too spotted them all. He still had his beard, which made his face look sharper. It had the same salt and pepper colouring as his hair, which he wore pulled back in a high knot. "Long time, no see."

"Are you finished doing shows for the holidays?" Draco asked.

"Yes, then back to it in January. We'll pick up where we left off in Prague. But enough about that! How are you all liking Hogwarts?" A playful gleam came up in Mr Shafiq's eye. "Hazel informs me you're all keeping your toes in line."

With his father right there, Draco didn't dare let on that anything other than that was the absolute truth.

"Yes, sir," they all chimed.

Mr Shafiq's gaze fell to the back. He tilted his head, then smiled. "You must be Blaise."

Draco was surprised not to see Blaise dive to hide behind Crabbe or Goyle. His eyes widened, though. Maybe his feet were stuck to the floor, frozen along with the rest of him.

"I just met your mother and stepfather. They said they had a twelve year old running around, likely to be found with this lot. Have they all been making you feel welcome in Britain?"

"Yes, sir," Blaise replied once he'd found his voice.

"We just performed in Milano last week. Such a beautiful city. Your mother said you're going back on Monday, to visit family for Christmas?"

"Yes, sir."

Father excused himself to check on other guests, and then Mr Shafiq asked the rest of them questions. Martina said hello when she passed by with most the other seventh-year Slytherin girls, and then Mr Selwyn dropped a heavy hint to Mr Shafiq that he was about ready for a dance upstairs. With that ("Can't keep him waiting, of course."), Draco and the rest of his group stopped blocking the one door and filed properly into the formal dining room. Draco's stomach growled again.

He finished refilling his plate first. He waited off to the side for the others. Blaise came over, looking at the other people in the room with renewed curiosity.

"Do lots of famous people come to these?" he asked. "I can't believe he knew my name. I can't believe he cared."

"You're here, so of course he cares," Draco replied. "These galas are for the most important people in Magical Britain. Do you see that man over there?"

Draco pointed at a portly man at the other end of the table with a bowler hat, and Blaise nodded.

"That's our Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge," Draco said.

Blaise's eyes widened, then he groaned. "I bumped into him trying to grab something. He seemed to think it was funny when I said 'excuse me'."

"At least you said it, right?" Draco nudged Blaise with his shoulder, smirking. "Oh look, there's someone you know. And—"

Draco broke off abruptly with a snort. Dumbledore had walked in. Behind him, looking like it would be rather dangerous to approach, was Professor Snape.

"They come?" Blaise asked, just as Crabbe joined them.

"Usually just to put an appearance in, I think." Draco popped a cube of cheese into his mouth. "If you're important enough to get an invitation to our galas, you'd be a fool to turn it down. Grandfather would never invite someone twice without a good reason why they couldn't make it. I don't know why Father would do things any differently, now he's the one in charge of it all."

"Yeah, Snape will only be here for an hour or so," Crabbe added. "Then he'll turn into a swarm of bats and vanish into the night."

Once the others migrated over, they all carried on. They saw the Macmillan family in the Atrium, although didn't pay them much mind other than to wave at Stanley. He was the only one of the kids that had sorted Slytherin. Ernie from their year was there too, sticking close between his mum and sister, a fourth-year that had gone to Hufflepuff as well. Ernie looked more uncertain to be here than ever before.

Everything was in full swing. The entire guest list was present, lively, hungry, and everything in between. The ballroom was full, not that Draco and his friends much cared to watch the old people dance. They ran into some older students from Slytherin they knew in the garden room, but they all seemed a lot older and sophisticated now without their school uniforms on. It didn't help that the sixth- and seventh-years mingled with teenagers yet older than they were. Draco got the feeling immediately that they—Higgs included—wouldn't be interested in entertaining a bunch of eleven and twelve year olds. Even the second- through fifth-years had secluded themselves on the terrace, batting eyelashes across the tables they occupied at whoever they fancied.

Draco felt too young for all of them, and he definitely felt too old for all the screaming and laughing coming from the playroom. The group ended up in Draco's chamber again, which wasn't a bad thing considering how much energy clogged the rest of the manor house. It would all thin out around ten o'clock.

The shift was audible then, since the music changed. Rather than classical and relaxing, it became more exciting as the teenagers commandeered the ballroom. Daphne, Millicent, and Pansy's mums came to find them so that they could take them and their younger siblings home. All the older people and the Ministry workers who just put in appearances were gone. So was Snape, although it surprised Draco to see Dumbledore still there. Not only that, but he and Father were in a rather spirited and friendly conversation. Draco asked Mum about it when he saw her, since he didn't think he'd ever seen Father and Dumbledore get along so well. Mum just rolled her eyes in a playful way and said something about 'men and their birds', which Draco didn't understand, but the women standing with Mum all laughed.

"Doesn't Dumbledore have a phoenix?" Nott said while they all puzzled it out.

"Oh—yeah, I think so." Draco sat up straighter. "I didn't tell you, my father bought a peacock."

"A peacock?" Goyle asked. "Like those colourful birds with the big tails?"

"Yes, except Vega is white. Maybe he'll turn blue or green or whatever later." Draco wasn't sure how that worked. "Do you want to see? Maybe Father'll let me show you."

It was a no-go the next time Draco saw him. Since all the boys were staying the night, he said he would show them in the morning.

As midnight approached, Draco started to feel dead on his feet. The other boys were no different. Mum must have sensed it, because she rounded them up to lead upstairs. She made them up some comfortable mattresses to lay their blankets and pillows down onto, then spelled the room quiet. All noise disappeared once she closed the chamber door behind her. Like the previous night in the school dorm, Draco was out as soon as his head hit the pillow.