A/N: SQUEEEEE!!! Oh, Writing this chapter made my timmy tuckle! Sorry for the late update. Summer Marching Band Camp has started so I spend all morning (and occaisionally up to 3:00) out in the sun. So, when I get home, I am dead tired, and not in the mood to think. But, I managed to squeeze one out. Enjoy! (Oh, and Sarafu happy!)

Celebrating The Holidays With Amaranta

After Amaranta's visit to the infirmary, it seemed as if her rebellious nature had been cooled down. She still wore the casual clothing, but she didn't bomb Umbridge's office, or do anything to actively oppose her. Half the reason was that she was too tired to anymore, the other half was that Draco Malfoy wouldn't allow her.

"Eat up, Amaranta," he ordered her. "You've barely touched your breakfast. You need to eat more to get some weight on you. This will be the only time you can eat all of your favorite sweets!"

Amaranta didn't answer him, just gazed dreamily at the back of a couple of Ravenclaw heads. She had her chin in her hands, and she hadn't blinked in ten minutes. After a moment of silence, she finally spoke. "Draco, what is it when two people put their mouths together?"

Malfoy's face flushed a deep red. What a thing to ask abruptly! "It's c-called k-kissing. . .or snogging, if you like. W-Why do you ask? "

Her gaze moved down the Ravenclaw table towards a group of giggling girls. "I saw some girl and some boy doing that, and was wondering what it was. Why do they do that?"

"Er. . .uh, well, you see," Draco was even redder than before. "When a guy and a girl really like each other, they want to get close to each other. . .and, uh, well, they-" Draco tried vastly to remember the "talk" his mother had given him only a year ago. That wasn't something you really wanted to remember. "At first, you just want to be near them, but. . .as your, er, feelings grow, you want to. . .touch them. . .and k-kissing, is a way to. . .um, show your feelings. . ."

"So, if someone you don't like kisses you. . .?" Amaranta began, still staring blankly.

"Usually, you'd push them away, or at least say something," Draco frowned. Amaranta had no tact at all. Had someone kissed her?

"Really?" she asked, but Draco didn't think she wanted an answer. "So if you don't push them, does that mean you like them?"

"Eh. . ., yeah, if it makes you happy, but-er, why do you want to know all these things anyway?"

Amaranta finally blinked, sighing. "Just curious. I don't know about these kinds of things, and I think I should."

Draco frowned, doubting her reply greatly. Hopefully, it wasn't for the reason he was thinking, but now that she was responding to him, he could try asking her. . . "Hey, Amaranta, you know Christmas break is coming, and since most kids are leaving to visit their families, I was wondering if you'd like to come to my manor with me?"

Amaranta didn't turn to look at him. "Will your dad be there?"

"Well, of course, but he doesn't usually leave his study when he's at home, so it'll just be my mother and us."

"And the house elves," Amaranta said with somewhat of a grin.

Draco smiled. "Yup."

They arrived at his mansion just before noon. The grand pillars were decorated with lights and holly, and the snow all over the front yard lay untouched. As they walked down the path that led them to the front door, the trees lining the path were sparkling jubiliantly, with snow and artificial lights. Upon the door hung a wreath made of golden bells, so that when Draco opened it, jingles rang through out the house. He looked around the house.

The entry way was a vast room with a large marble staircase, of course, covered in golden tinsel, in the middle that split into two, each twirling up and to the balcony. Upon the ceiling hung ornaments on low strings so that they swayed with the slightest bit of air. Bits of snow had been enchanted to take the form of little cherubim that flew mystically around the large ornaments, a glittering trail of white following behind their flight.

Draco was only given a seconds warning before his mother flew through a door to their left and flung herself at the blonde boy. He managed to stay upright as the full force of her tackle hit him, and the blonde woman wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Oh, my boy! My one and only precious son!" She cried. "He's back! Oh! I missed you so much!" She drew back to smack his cheeks and pull his face closer so that she could shower him with kisses.

"M-Mum, stop-hey! No! Stop that! Not in front of-" He growled, trying to escape her lips.

The woman stopped, letting him go to finally notice Amaranta standing behind him, gazing at all the red lipstick smudges now on Draco's face. "Oh, so it's you again, Amaranta," the woman's happy smile had fallen to one of dislike. She was a dashingly beautiful woman, with long white-blonde hair like Draco's and dashing grey eyes. Her make-up was light, excluding the thick, red lipstick she wore. She was tall, thin, and adorned a green dress. "You know, Draco, you really shouldn't affiliate with this girl."

"I can 'affiliate' with anyone I want!" Draco shouted. "We're hungry, so we'll put our things away, and I want to see some lunch when I get back!"

"That's my boy," she patted his head adoringly. "Always on his toes. Business, business, business. Well, I'll go tell the elves to get to cooking."

After they had eaten a hearty lunch, Draco declared he was going to go play with Amaranta, and dragged the girl away. He led her through the manor, and stopped as he glanced at her outfit. She was wearing long, black pants, but only a short-sleeved T-shirt, and her elbow-length gloves. "Aren't you cold in that?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied.

"Then why don't you put on a coat?"

"I don't have one."

"What happened to the purple one you had before?"

"It was jinxed to destruction."

"By who?"

Amaranta didn't answer. Why was she being bullied so much?

"Then you can use some of my mother's old ones," he declared, pulling her by the arm. "They're out of fashion, so she doesn't use them at all. She won't even recognize them if she saw them, I bet."

He pulled her up a long flight of stairs, and into a small storage room at the top of the house. His mansion had four stories, making it the tallest building in the entire Malfoy estate. He had never really ventured much to the top floor. It was mainly used for storage, and there wasn't anything very interesting, so he gazed about, just as much as Amaranta did when he opened the door to a dusty and dark room. He dug through boxes and boxes of clothes before he finally handed Amaranta a black trench coat and a long, billowing red cloak. The red cloak was a nice touch; it brought out the rosiness in her cheeks, and made her lips look even redder. Her lips. . .

"Hey, Amaranta," Draco put his hands in his pockets to hide how much they were fidgeting. "Do you, uh want to try out that kissing thing?"

"But don't you only do that with someone you really like?" Amaranta gazed at him, unblinking.

Draco's heart squirmed. "But you like me right?"

Amaranta was silent for a while, her finger tapping her chin in thought. "Yeah, I suppose I do."

"Then it'd be ok, right?" Draco spoke hopefully, stepping a bit closer. "We're just expressing how much we like each other. It's the same as holding hands or hugging."

Amaranta stared at the dusty floor for a second, before she looked straight at him, her face completely blank. "Ok."

Draco's heart fluttered. He took a deep breath to try and keep it from soaring to the heavens. "Ok, now, to properly kiss, you need to close your eyes first."

Amaranta looked curious, but closed her eyes. Draco's blood was pumping faster, he drew nearer, so close that he could feel her breath.

"Now you need to put your arms on my shoulders," he was whispering, now, as he picked up her hands and draped them around his neck. His stomach was jumping into chaos, just like his heart, now. He hoped no more organs would begin to spaz, or he just might pass out. "And I put my hands around your waist," he whispered, settling his hands on her hips. He could hear her swallow. "And then. . ."

The moment Draco's lips met hers, a hurricane of feelings imbued him. He wanted to hold her tightly, and push her away, he wanted to make her smile, he wanted to make her cry, he wanted to beat her, he wanted to caress her, he wanted to lock her up, he wanted to let her free, he wanted to make her his, he wanted to let her go, he wanted to bite into her flesh, he wanted to be eaten by her, he wanted to make her bleed, he wanted to heal her, he wanted all of her, he wanted none of her. He wanted to break down the physical barriers that kept them apart and become one being.

He didn't realize what he was doing until he heard Amaranta's moan of pain. He pushed away from her, as she fell back onto a pile of boxes. He had bitten her lip, and dug his nails into her sides. If he had remained in that state any longer, he just might've started to tear at her flesh.

"I'm sorry, Amaranta, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" He tried to smooth back his wild hair.

"I think we should get downstairs," Amaranta said coldly. "The dust is getting in my throat."

She strode past him and out of the room. Draco muttered a curse under his breath, and followed after her.

The next day, Amaranta acted as if nothing had ever happened. Draco wasn't sure if she had forgiven him, or if she just wanted to forget, but since today was Christmas, maybe her spirits would rise. That was, if Lucius hadn't decided to spend time with the family. They all sat quietly at the dinner table for their Christmas feast.

When they had finally finished, Narcissca spoke into the thick silence, "Draco, why don't you run on into the sitting room and open your presents."

Draco nodded obediently and walked over to the sitting room. Amaranta silently followed, her food barely touched. If Draco hadn't known any magic, it would've taken him all night to open the mountain of presents that surrounded the gargantuan tree in the vast chamber they called a sitting room. The Malfoy's son sat lazily in one of the comfy armchairs, flicking his wand lethargicaly, as wrappers and boxes flew everywhere. He found a vast assortment of candy, which he ungracefully handed to Amaranta who just stared blankly at them, new dress robes, the latest broomstick, and all sorts of things any other kid would die for. But this Christmas, he was in too much of a bad mood to enjoy his fortunes.

"Amaranta, come here," Lucius ordered from the largest chair in the whole room, it looked more like a throne.

The girl obeyed, swimming out of the pile of chocolates Draco had thrust upon her. She stood in front of the man with long, blonde hair, as he examined her meager appearance amongst all this splendor. He picked up her chin to turn her face this way and that, and then pushed her away, as if he had just touched something gross. "You seem to be well," Lucius snarled. "The Dark Lord will be pleased. He sent you to Hogwarts with your health in mind."

Draco stiffened when he saw Amaranta's new rebellious face emerge. This could not bode well.

"Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy," Amaranta spoke boldly, glaring at Lucius. "But I find it difficult that the ominous Dark Lord of all evil cares about a mere orphan girl's health."

Lucius smiled ruefully. "Not for sentimental reasons, no," he then turned to Draco. "You really shouldn't get attached to such a girl. You'll regret it in the end. You should accompany yourself with more rewarding people."

"She is rewarding!" Draco snapped. "She is an excellent witch! Crabbe and Goyle are nothing compared to her!"

"So, you only see her as one of your servants," Lucius mused, leaning back in his chair and drinking some blood red, after-dinner wine. "She must be useful, then, compared to those blubbering bafoons. But there is still no need to lower yourself to speak with this creature."

Draco stood up. Why must he always treat her like a house-elf? "And why can't I? She's a Slytherin, and of Pure Blood!"

"Yes, her blood is pure, as some may call it," Lucius twirled his wine lazily, but his eyes had an icy glint.

"Then why?" Draco shook his fists. "Why do you hate her so much? Why do you hate it when I talk with her?" The young Malfoy awaited for his father to answer, but it was Narcissca who spoke.

"Draco, I think it's time you went to bed," she commanded more than suggested. "You're father is tired from doing the Dark Lord's will. I will hear no more of this, am I clear?"

Draco scowled and then stomped off up the stairs. What's his parents freaking problem anyway?

He didn't have to call Amaranta for her to follow. She hated his parents' company more than he did. Even though his room was next to hers, he didn't feel like sleeping tonight. He was too angry. So instead of entering his large room, he turned to the smaller one that was Amaranta's. It was only on his threat to run away that she was even granted a room. She used to sleep with the elves.

It was obvious the Malfoy wealth was not wasted on her room. She only had a bed, and was lucky that eery room, except for closets, had windows. It seemed as if they purposefully un-furnished the room for her soujorn there. Draco plumped onto her bed angrily, arms crossed. "Man, my parents don't understand a thing! The reason you're with my family and not any other Death Eaters' is because we have the most money to spare and room. Plus, we can show our faces in the open. If you were put into our care, then why aren't they caring for you!"

He opened his mouth for more ranting, but stopped as he saw that Amaranta was standing in the doorway, looking down at the floor.

"What's wrong with you?" he didn't mean to say that with as much fiercness as he did. He was just still angry. "Come in, shut the door. It's your room, isn't it?"

Amaranta did as she was told, but didn't move away from the door. Was she afraid of him after what he had done to her? "Amaranta, what's wrong?"

"Is. . .what your father said true?" She said after a few moments silence. "That you only see me as a servant? That I'm no better than Crabbe or Goyle?"

So that was it. Why was she worrying over something so stupid? "Of course not! We've always been friends! We've even kiss-" He cut himself short. Maybe bringing that up wasn't something he should have done.

But Amaranta didn't seem to have noticed that last sentence. "I think it's best if we get some sleep, Draco."

He gave a relieved sigh. He was forgiven, for now. . .