Draco Malfoy had found himself an empty cabin on the trip home (as there were children staying at school... Draco blinked, at once wondering why Potter had spent every Christmas Malfoy'd known him at school. Maybe he'd get a chance to ask, eventually, Draco thought somberly, uneasily reminded of his godfather's time at school... and at home, which he spoke of with such great rarity that it was hard not to guess that dark things had occurred there**). It was a long ride, and Draco spent some of it lulled to an uneasy slumber as the cars shook back and forth, rocking him into the sleepy sands that Father Time forgot.
As the train pulled into the station, Draco saw his mother waiting for him, her ice-blue eyes crinkling slightly in anticipation as the train pulled up. Before the train was even fully stopped, Draco was bounding out of his cabin, sweeping up on his mother and enveloping her in a frankly childish hug, which she returned warmly. They were on the edge of the platform, neatly shielded from prying eyes by a baggage cart. "Let me look at you," his mum said in dulcet tones, as she pulled back, "You've grown," she said with a soft smile, "Soon you'll outgrow me entirely."
"Never!" Draco whispered forcefully.
The moment was broken by Vince and Greg, who were tugging Draco's trunk towards him. "Thank you," he said gravely, slipping a generous galleon into each boy's pocket. They'd figure it out later, of course - Vince and Greg knew enough to not look until they were in a place of better safety than the edge of the platform. For all that they were easily big enough to fight their yearmates at fistcuffs, they'd do poorly against a seventh year, and well they knew it. Also, in a more Slytherin way, they could be accused of stealing (for they were certainly poor enough), and that would be much worse than a bruising, as it would affect their social standing.
Draco laced his hands together, giving his mother a firm leg up as she stepped into the carriage. He was proud of being able to do so - I guess I really am getting taller.
Yuletide was the day of celebration, and Draco Malfoy was not looking forward to a day spent in the company of Pansy Parkinson and her friends. There was nothing to be done about it, he thought sternly to himself, so best not to complain. He had neither the standing, nor frankly the poor manners that his godfather possessed. If he had, he might have employed them to be disinvited from this event. His collar itched, and his shoes pinched his toes. Draco didn't want to dance the polka or the waltz, he wanted to be outside on his broom, or at least - well, anything else. Even homework. Hm, that was one trick he hadn't tried before... It was unlikely to work! Draco thought with a grin, and unrepentantly strode over to his mum to express his feelings on exactly what a dire state his homework was in, and precisely how much of the celebration he would miss so that he could repair its sadly neglected state. He nearly made it through before his mother started laughing, silvery peals of glissandos falling around him. At least he could help his mothers nerves like this, he thought with a soft smile. "You'll be staying the entire time, my son." She said sternly, as she choked back laughter. Draco loved that his mother could set aside all her cares and worries, let the mask of absolute confidence drop - if only for a second.
With a sigh, he resumed looking out the window, knowing that sooner or later his mum would find a use for his wand; so, no, he couldn't take a walk like he desired.
**Snape has other reasons for not mentioning his time at home. We know that, Draco doesn't.
[And we're skipping the Yule Ball, because Draco finds it boring and is trying to blend into the scenery. Being so pale, and with the Malfoy ballroom being marble, I'd say he's got a good shot! Leave a review...]