'POP'

Max hit solid ground and decided to keep his eyes and mouth shut until the whirling in his stomach and head seized.

"You'll get used to it," said Scorpius, clapping Max on the back.

Maddox felt the cold wind blow against his cheeks and dared open one of his purple eyes to stare at the building he was facing. The house was magnificent. Tall and white with an iron gate and flowers thriving through the snow beside a cobbled stone path leading from the front garden to the blue door wreathed with white roses surrounding a gold knocker. Blue shutters fastened stalwart alongside eight frosty windows where a single candle danced merrily within the warmth of the indoor glass. The chimney puffed soft billows of smoke as snow fell lightly past two orange orbs of light before the front steps illuminating the yard as the sun steadily dwindled into nothing but an orange glow over the mountain view beyond.

"It's magnificent," Max gaped.

"I suppose," Scorpius thought. "You can stand out here and freeze to death all night if you wish to admire the house, but we have hot tea and pie inside."

He hadn't realized how cold he was. Max walked quietly across the stone path vacant of snow as he could swear he heard carolers in the distance. Malfoy Manor was something from a Thomas Kinkaid painting.

"No offense, but I expected your house to be tall and barren of warmth," Max mumbled so Draco and Astoria couldn't hear.

"No, that's the Grandparent's place," Scorpius shrugged, pushing open the blue door. "Kick your shoes off over there, leave your bag on the steps; I'll bring it upstairs later. But, uh, make yourself at home."

The inside was even more spectacular than the front of the house. A giant nine-foot Christmas tree stood tall and eloquently decorated in the drawing room. Garland was strung along the balcony, foyer tables, and doorframes. Candles flickered on table sides, and a magnificent grand piano waited for him in the corner of the lounge. Cellos, violins, and small bells played quietly by themselves in the hall.

"What did you say your dad did again?" Max asked.

"He's a bank owner now. He's opening wizarding banks all over the world," Scorpius replied.

Astoria placed a hot cup of tea in Max's grip and turned to slap Draco's hand as he tried to sneak a cherry from one of the pies.

"Not until dinner," she laughed.

Draco backed away pouty before snatching a cherry from the pie so quickly that you would think he used magic to do it. He popped it in his mouth with a wink at Max.

"Scorpius, why don't you show- what are you doing?" Astoria turned to see Scorpius shove something behind his back. "Show me what you're hiding," she warned.

Scor reluctantly pulled from behind his back three wall frames. Astoria took them. "Why are you taking these down? They're my favorite."

"They're embarrassing," Scorpius whined.

"Oh, you were so cute. Just look at that smile." She faced the photos toward Max who tried to conceal a snigger as a young Scorpius rolled around with a tuft of blonde hair atop his round head and his fingers in his mouth. One photo was of him without any pants.

"MOM!" Scorpius shouted.

"Oh, calm down, it's not that embarrassing, you were just a baby."

"It doesn't mean I have a different butt!"

"Fine, I won't put them back up. Why don't you show Max your room," she suggested and continued to coo at the photos as Scorpius led Max up the stairs, red-faced.

"Moms," Scorpius grumbled. "So embarrassing."

Max wished that he had a mother who would embarrass him by cooing over old baby photos. He didn't even have any baby photos. A series of other young Scorpius pictures lined the hall in elegant frames. A five-year-old Scorpius was grinning over his ice cream cone, his face frosted with sugar. One showed a two-year-old Scorpius sitting on a tiny broomstick. Another was of a ten-year-old Scorpius being hugged by his mother. All photos moved as every picture did in the wizarding world.

"We have two guest bedrooms; you can take your pick," said Scorpius animatedly as he continued to the last room at the end of the hall. "This is my room."

Scorpius' bedroom was immaculately clean. His green bedspread lay still over his four-poster bed without a wrinkle. His bookshelf was alphabetically ordered, and his ceiling was domed. However, his wall was plastered with world maps. He had wall décor of famous architectural landmarks from all over the globe lining his room such as the London Eye, the Golden Gate Bridge, Hoover Dam, the Eiffel Tower, and the Sistine Chapel. His dresser pull knobs were tiny globes and his window curtains of travel dashes spread open before his large window.

"So," Max said. "You like Geography."

"I want to travel," said Scorpius starry-eyed. "I want to see everything!"

"What is there to see?" Max asked, fiddling with Scorpius' globe.

"Everything," Scor said slightly affronted, turning to Max. "There is so much to be explored! The caves and the canyons, the swamps of Malaysia, the valleys of Ireland, the Volcanos of Iceland! The cities of America, and the pyramids of Egypt! See? I have pegged all the places I plan to visit!"

Scorpius pointed to his largest world map in which the countries were hardly visible through the red push-pins.

"Dad has traveled," he said. "When he was looking for suitable building acreage for the banks, the stories he brings back. You have your head in the stars, Max, but I have little interest in space when there's so much to be discovered here."

He was talking the same way Max did when he was speaking of Astronomy.

The room was growing visibly darker as gas lamps, and table candles struck into life to illuminate the room. Max was about to ask about the many brown paper parcels on Scorpius' desk when a loud pounding against the window interrupted his thought. Scorpius peered through.

"Oh, God," he muttered miserably. He flung open the window letting in a gust of freezing air and snow flurries. "Sod off, Poppy!" Scor called angrily.

"Just thought I'd wish you a terrible Christmas!" she called back in her sarcastic tone.

"If you're going to go through the trouble of throwing things at my house in the cold, you better think of better one-liners!"

"Oh, shut up!" she called.

"But I thought you liked arguing!" Scorpius called down.

Scor had to throw himself back to avoid a snowball that had just been thrown through his window. It broke open on the shag rug to reveal a rock inside.

Max took a deep breath and pulled his wand from his pocket before leaning from the window as well.

"Is there a problem, Poppy?" he asked pleasantly, twirling his wand in his fingers.

Poppy stumbled a fraction in the snow before regaining herself. "What are you doing here?"

"What does it matter?" he asked. "But I suggest you leave; your parents are probably looking for you."

"Are you trying to threaten me?" she barked. "We both know you can't do any of your dark magic voodoo crap outside of school!"

"Are you daring me?" he smirked.

Poppy frowned worriedly and stepped back. "You're so weird, the both of you!" She left their yard.

"You're right," said Max, closing the window. "She is awful at one-liners."

"Every day," Scorpius growled. "Every day I'm home she has to try'n bother me!"

"And think of it, if you had ridden with her on the train, you two could have been twisted friends."

"It's amazing what one small decision can do," said Scor.

Max thought for a moment. There had been many small decisions in life that he loved, and some he regretted. His father's voice floated in his mind from nowhere. He was back on the platform at 9 ¾ Kings Cross a year ago, starting his first year at Hogwarts. His dad leaned down and whispered severely. "Now don't you dare tell anyone about my Hufflepuff secrets. That means the room of requirement and the gardens. Don't you dare tell anyone about the gardens. Only trust Hufflepuffs." Max smiled slightly now. That one decision to bypass his father's warning and take three strangers, a fiery-haired Gryffindor girl and two wet Slytherin boys, to the enchanted gardens is what tied him into the most wonderful friend group in the world. That decision made him the D'artagnan of The Three Musketeers.

"Boys! Come on down for Dinner!" Astoria's voice called magnified to twice its volume.

The two boys skipped down the stairs. Scorpius had to direct Max to the bathroom to wash up before sitting at the table. Scorpius looked overly excited.

"What's for dinner?" Max whispered, noticing an incredible smell pungent in the air.

"Mom always makes my favorite when I get home," Scor grinned.

Astoria waltzed in from the swinging kitchen doors to set in the middle of the table, a pizza. Max tried not to laugh. This perfect house with this picture-perfect family all sitting around the table near Christmas with the most casual type of food before them seemed terribly out of place.

It was delicious anyway. Max was welcome to play the grand piano while Draco helped Astoria with the easy dishes. He was instructed to brush his teeth, comb his curly hair, and get dressed in pajamas before settling in the guest room. Max laid in the cloud like bed with his hands resting below his head. He smiled thinking about how different his friends were. Albus and Rose in a family loud and chaotic. All were singing and playing in the snow, muddy floors and many children all happy to be in each other's company. Then Scorpius in a perfect house with perfect parents. The Malfoy family ran on a schedule with bedtime chores and clean floors. All pleased to be in order. Max's smile faded slightly. Then there was he who had nothing of the sort and nothing in between the two happy variables. But he couldn't feel sorry for himself, he had friends, and he had school, and he had a father, and his brother was alive. He had it better than he sometimes realized.

Something poked at his face repeatedly. Max opened his eyes and jumped backward as a long-nosed and wrinkly face pressed so close that it was blurry.

"Who are you?" Max gasped, clutching at his heart as he was woken from a nightmare.

"I is being Meltin, sir," the house elf squeaked. "And I is waking you up. It is past seven in the morning sir and bake day is to be starting sir in the kitchen sir."

"Seven in the morning?" Max asked incredulously.

"Master's Malfoys have been up since six but isn't wanting to be waking you yet sir. You is talking in your sleep," Wilkin whispered. "I is finished washing your winter things, sir, and I is waiting for your pajamas, sir."

Max stood from bed and stretched. His hair was flat on one side and his eyes full of sleep. Meltin stared up at Max, waiting.

"A little privacy please," he said.

"Oh, yes, of course!" The elf bowed himself from the room, leaving Max to change into his clothes that Meltin had already set aside for him to wear that day and leave his night clothes on the unmade bed that he had started before remembering that the Malfoys had a house elf to do that for him.

He shuffled down the stairs to the smell of freshly baked sweets and the sound of the piano lightly playing on its own.

"Good morning, Maddox," smiled Astoria, as she guided a plate of pancakes across the dining room with her wand to set on the table before him.

Draco was at the end of the oak table drinking coffee black and reading the newspaper 'Crier's News.' Scorpius seemed to have already eaten and was now peeling potatoes in a bowl across from Max.

"Do you always have to bake?" Max whispered across the table.

"No, mom does all the real stuff. I just count marshmallows or crack walnuts or something," Scor replied, incredibly focused on the potatoes.

Max smiled in relief, knowing that neither he nor Scorpius would make even noodles.

Astoria took the now empty plate from Max and replaced it with a nutcracker and a bowl full of walnuts.

"Aw," Scorpius whined. "You get the fun job."

Most of the week leading up to Christmas was enjoyable. Scorpius showed Max around the neighborhood. They played in the snow, and Scorpius even showed Max his secret hiding place in Mrs. Hocker's back garden, a woman who never stirs from her early morning to late afternoon nap. At one point, they had come across a Bundimun. Max chucked it through Poppy's now broken bedroom window, and both boys ran laughing as screams bellowed from her room.

"Hey, Scor?" Max asked as they played pirates and voyagers atop Scorpius' bed.

"Hm?" Scor replied, focused on how to get his Voyager pass Max's pirates without getting decapitated.

"Why do you guys call her Stella?"

"Because her name, Heranem, means dirt," he replied shortly, touching his Voyager, then changing his mind for the sixth time.

"Dirt?" Max repeated, unknowing why a rather somewhat cute mermaid such as herself would be cursed with such a name.

"Dirt, sand, grime, take your pick. She was born into the sand and shunned by her guardian and siblings because her eyes were open. Merchildren don't open their eyes until two weeks after birth. But Stella, she was ready. Her parent didn't like that. Wondrous children were a sign of change; they don't want to change; they're scared of her." Scorpius finally moved his piece across the board to rest under Max's Pirate ship.

"I can see why I suppose," said Max thoughtfully, instructing his Kraken to reach under his boat and decapitate Scorpius' voyager. "To go as far as she's going, there's going to be changed. She wants to be a bloody human! That's insane for one thing. Is she the only wonderer so far?"

"There have been others," Scorpius grumbled, scooping his voyager's head from the board. "They usually kill the 'bright-eyes' as soon as they come out. I don't know why Stella was spared, though."

"You've discovered all of this through sign language?" Max asked.

"A bit, others she's told us. She's really improving her English."

"I still don't like this whole idea, but I defiantly want to meet her properly," said Max. "Rose especially, she won't stop going on about Stella. She's slacking on her school again, though I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing; it means she's working hard toward your goal, well, our goal now I suppose. I was reading about Animagus transformations and don't think-"

"Can we please talk about something else?" Scorpius interrupted half irritably, half pleadingly. Max didn't respond; he was slightly confused. "Sugamina, Stella, merpeople, that's all Al talks about these days and just this once, just over the Holidays, I would like to discuss something else. I've breathed and slept Sugamina for months now, and I just need a breath of fresh air and time to clear my head before I start up again."

Max understood. He has had about enough of it already from Rose who was constant in her pursuit. He could imagine how Scorpius felt.

"Max!" Maddox opened his eyes the next morning to find Scorpius at the doorway looking frantic. "Come on! Get dressed! I had Meltin set out some clothes for you. The Grandparents are getting here early; mom's frantic! Just get dressed, brush your teeth, you're going to need to comb your hair down too and, uh, maybe not so indigo. Try blond. Meet us downstairs in five minutes. Oh, and Happy Christmas Eve!"

Max stared at him incredulously. He had no idea what Scorpius had just said; it was probably not anything important. In ten minutes, he had dressed in the super formal white button-up top and a maroon sweater vest that had been placed on the chair at the door and which smelled strongly of mint, parsley, and a hint of Scorpius' cologne.

Max shuffled from the room, yawning and wondering how in the world Scorpius does this every morning.

"There you are!" Scor exclaimed. He was wearing robes of splendid green, and his hair was slicked back to cling to his scalp. He looked rather posh. Scorpius took Max by the arm and began leading him around the room as though he were about to show him something important. "Look," he said in a hushed tone with a glance toward his parents. "The grandparents, their names are Lucius and Narcissa, but you'll only refer to them as Ma'am and Sir. They are blood purist who would have been at the top of the food chain if Voldemort succeeded in world domination. They will likely ask you a bunch of questions but don't say that you were related to Belladonna or a Hufflepuff no matter what. And try not to mention that you're a Gryffindor if you can help it; Grandad only has snide comments about that house, and we'll never hear the end of it. They love talking about themselves so ask them questions if you have to talk. But, we both know you can't lie, so, it's best not to risk talking at all. Don't get into an argument and we'll be okay. Grandad doesn't like blood diversity, mixing, the Minister, Gryffindor, Dumbledore, or really anything that I like. But he will ask you questions, probably to compare you to himself when he was your age; just keep your answers short and sweet. If all goes well, they'll leave early to keep from helping with any cleanup and we'll only have to see them for the first half of Christmas."

Max was trying to process this all. He found these precautions to be very insignificant considering he was indeed a talker in awkward conversations or situations.

"Mom's going crazy in the kitchen and dad is trying to straighten the yard. I have already done my part. You and I are now going to hide in the attic until they arrive," said Scorpius, now pulling the trapped door from the ceiling to reveal a ladder.

"Why are we hiding in the attic?" Max asked.

"To prevent mom from giving you a task because I would have to end up helping with it. If we stay out of her hair, she won't even realize we're gone." He climbed the ladder followed by a quizzical Max who scooted quickly away as the trapped door shut on its own.

Even the Malfoy's attic was immaculate. Not a dust bunny in a corner, not even shards of broken glass as there always seemed to be in attics.

The two boys spent the next twenty minutes going through Draco's old school things and poking fun at all the misspelled words or crappy scribbles in his books. There teasing was interrupted by Draco's voice bellowing a colorful curse word.

"They're here," Scorpius muttered. "Come on! Get out, get out, get out!" he scrambled down the latter and ran to his room to check his hair and posture. Scorpius, of course, doused himself in his cologne and even gave Max a couple of sprits without his consent which left the purple haired boy coughing.

Scor drug Max along the hall and down the stairs. Max was about to stride into the foyer when Scorpius caught him by the neck of his wool sweater vest and yanked him back.

"Your hair!" Scor whispered. "Change the hair! They don't like metamorphmagus' either."

Max scowled slightly at the inconvenience. He didn't understand why everyone was trying so hard to be something they're not to please people they don't even really like.

"So, they don't like anything about me?" Max asked, changing his curls to a neutral brown.

"Except that you're a first-born male," Scor thought.

"But I'm not, Will is," Max said exasperatedly.

"Oh, well then no."

"My eyes?" Max remembered. "I have purple eyes and pointed ears."

"Scorpius, darling! Come say hello to your Grandparents!" Astoria called from the drawing room.

Scorpius was becoming sweaty. He reached out and pulled a bit of Max's hair to unsuccessfully cover his ears. "Your eyes," he said quickly. "They change when you're feeling a strong emotion or something, right?"

"They'll turn yellowish in fear," he thought unhelpfully.

"Good, good. Be scared, be really really scared," Scorpius hit Max on the chest encouragingly and rushed to the foyer where he took a breath and began slowly into the drawing room, holding himself with the grace and dignity that wasn't fitting for such a clumsy boy.

Max shook his head and took a deep breath. He liked it here, at Scorpius' house, but right now he wished he was at the Potter-Weasley family Christmas. Right now, they were probably prepping for dinner, playing in the snow to later ice skate and carol. He smiled thinking about it, then frowned as he suddenly felt like an ungrateful jerk. He thought of the alternative, where he could be right now. He would be at his house in Ireland, eating take-out and sitting in his room with his star chart and trying to ignore Clent and Bailey's voices from downstairs. Here, he had a friend, a gracious host, and a really nice place to lay down at night. He should be beyond appreciative of all he has at this moment. Max sat up straighter; he will do as he was told.

The boy walked dignified to the sitting room to meet their guests.

"Oh, there you are," said Astoria, looking highly distressed.

Two new faces met Max's gaze across the perfectly neat and scented room. The man, Lucius, had light grayish blond hair tied in a low ponytail at the back of his head. His eyes were steel gray like Scorpius, ' but they harbored none of his warmth. Lucius had a face like that of a troubled old man who had made bad choices; he had a way of commanding a room, though. Narcissa had a sour expression and looked uncomfortable. She was skinny with long robes of purple and blond hair tied securely on the back of her head.

"Who is this?" she asked. Her tone wasn't harsh but still not pleasant.

"I'm Vladimir." He cursed his tongue with that name, thinking the Malfoy family to fancy a name such as that, universal ruler. Considering Malfoys have names like Narcissa, Lucius, Draco, and Scorpius. Whoever picked out the names seemed rather fond of their offspring or thought highly of their family name.

Lucius took a couple of steps forward and reached out a stiff hand for Max to take. "Where're your parents? Why are you here?" he asked.

"My dad didn't really want me, sir, and my mother is trying to kill me so that wouldn't make for a very Jolly Holiday."

'Crap' Talk about a conversation starter. The words fell from his mouth as the truth often did when he was uncomfortable, and his head wasn't clear to process what he was about to say.

Scorpius was staring wide-eyed at him. Draco rubbed his eyebrows and Astoria sniggered.

"You seem to have an interesting story," said Lucius. "I will, of course, want to hear all about it during dinner." He strode toward the dining room followed by his wife.

Scorpius shook his head in disbelief at the mess Max was about to start. Maddox slapped a hand to his head in regret; one good thing came from his spurt; his eyes were successfully hazel now.

The Malfoy family and Vladimir took a seat at the dining room table much too large for a family of three. The most delicious smelling food was coming from the dishes steaming before them. Max assumed that Astoria had received a lot of help from magic considering he knew from this week's experience that she couldn't cook. The piano in the living room kicked into majestic life as everyone helped themselves.

The atmosphere was tense, as though everybody in the room expected someone else to explode. Max didn't like Lucius; he sat and spoke and ate his food with an air of superiority like that of Clent. He moved in a way to indicate that he had money if that makes any sense. Confidence is fine, crucial even, but he didn't like the way the elderly blond conveyed his.

The evening soon became awkward. Few words were spoken expect Narcissa's comment about not knowing that Astoria was pregnant with a snide glance toward the woman's midriff, she wasn't. Astoria had looked liable to explode as Draco discreetly shook his head pleadingly.

"So, Vladimir," Lucius spoke finally. Max was about to jump at him for using that name when he remembered that he had requested it. "Tell me, why is your mother trying to kill you?"

Max looked at Scorpius who was indicating in a plethora of ways for him not to tell the truth.

Max smiled. "What mother doesn't want to kill her kid every now and then?" he asked playfully.

"And you father?" Lucius continued with a quizzical look in response to the answer. "Why doesn't he want you?"

"Because he's a douche bag and we don't see eye to eye," Max told the truth casually.

"It's impolite to speak of your superiors in such a manner," he said with raised eyebrows and a crude look.

"He thinks and acts like he's better than everyone else because he has money and he wants me to think and act the same."

"There's nothing wrong with that," he said coldly.

"Yes, there is," Max said slowly while mentally preparing himself for an argument.

Scorpius dropped his roll and threw his head onto the table.

"Boy," Lucius started coldly. "Having money brings you to a higher class than lowly mudblood merchants."

"Father!" Draco barked suddenly. "Do not try to bring that vulgar language into our home!"

Max scowled darkly at the release of his least favorite word. "Should we not be judged by our character and who we are as equals rather than the change in our pockets or the type of our blood. Those things won't matter in the slightest when we die and all end up in the same place."

"Does it not matter to you, boy, what will happen to you when you die?"

"No! I'll be dead!"

"Or what will happen to your loved ones?"

"Your loved ones will be mourning the passing of a great person; they won't be rolling in your gold if you leave a good name behind!"

"You speak as though you were raised under the influence of those of unclean blood."

"Because I believe in equality?"

"What are your parents? Are they even our kind?"

"It doesn't matter! That doesn't define who I am!"

Lucius sat back in his chair looking triumphant. "I knew you weren't pureblood," he said snidely. "What I don't understand, it why my own son would allow his house to be infested with an unclean."

"Father, please," Draco begged, looking at the table with clenched fists.

Max's hair couldn't sustain the dull brown. The curl in front of his face was turning, and due to the tingling in his eyes, he knew the jig was up with his hiding him being a metamorphmagus.

Lucius blinked in surprise. "You're-" he started.

"I'm a what?" Max interrupted. "A metamorphmagus, a young, foolish child, a muggle born, a blood traitor, a Gryffindor, a broken piece of a shattered family, poor, low class? Call me what you wish, but it won't matter! It will never matter! Sticks and stones, sir. I know who I am and that's all that matters! What's a wealthy name in context of character?"

"There is power in a name. I won't expect a foolish child to yet understand," Lucius continued. "Money does define the person! Money is what represented the most notable and good wizarding families in the world. Merlin, the Black family, the Malfoy family, the Lestrange family, the Drury family, the Willep family-"

Screw it.

Max stood from his chair which fell to the floor with an almighty bang and punched the table so hard that his plate shattered and Lucius fell silent.

"There is NOTHING good about the Drury family!" he shouted. "They are malevolent, and evil, and crude, and criminal, and there is nothing associated with the Drury name that doesn't bring death, and chaos, and destruction, and pain!"

"You are too young, too foolish, to understand the methods to what seems like our madness. I, however, am learned in their pursuits so noble. What do you, boy, know about Drury?"

"I am one!" Max practically screamed with rage, leaning over the table until his face was parallel and no more than three inches from Lucius'. Max blinked and backed away, chest heaving. "And I'm ashamed of it," he said quieter.

There was a ringing silence at the table as the whole family stared at him. Max felt terrible about what he had let slip, how badly he had disobeyed Scorpius, and how he had ruined the dinner Astoria worked so hard to prepare. Max sat up straight, truly ashamed now for letting his temper get the best of him; it was always there, welling up inside of him, but he tries so hard to keep it in.

"Excuse me," he croaked before leaving the table causing the silver to cling as he pushed against the oak.

Max paced the lounge. He was holding fists of his hair and starting to feel sick. Distant voices were audible from the next room; Max stopped to listen.

"You were utterly out of place!" Draco's muffled voice demanded.

"That child needs to hold his tongue when in the presence of his superiors!" Lucius barked back.

"You're not his superior! You have not earned his respect!" Draco called.

"He's heading for disaster if he doesn't hold his tongue and straighten his twisted views!"

"Like that ever stopped either of us from making the biggest mistakes of our lives!"

"What are you wanting from me? Am I supposed to apologize?"

"Yes!" Draco called exasperatedly. "He's just a boy who was standing up for what he believes in, just like you and I both! There is more than one opinion in this world! Please, father, be the bigger man here. Don't let your pride get in the way."

"You expect me to beg at the feet of a twelve-year-old for forgiveness!" Lucius called, outraged.

"If you cannot put your pride away to speak to that boy, I do not want you influencing Scorpius anymore."

Max turned away. He didn't want to hear any more; Scorpius had been dragged into the conversation. He turned to the grand piano and began to play lightly, to vent. He had been so stupid, if he had only kept his mouth shut. His fingers grazed the keys as the music washed over him.

'Well,' he thought. 'There's another Christmas invite that won't reach me next year.'

A shadow was cast over the piano and Lucius took a seat on the bench beside Max. The man began to play beat notes in accordance to Max's symphony. Max tried to ignore him.

"I apologize," Lucius croaked after a while. The words seemed very painful.

"Me too," Max mumbled.

"No, you're not."

"Neither are you."

Lucius seized playing and turned to Max.

"I don't like you," he spoke quietly.

"And I feel the same about you. And that's okay; we can't all get along."

"You have spirit; it can get you into trouble."

"I'm a Gryffindor," said Max who hadn't yet averted his eyes from the keys. "I'm expected to."

"Needless to say, I will not be coming for Christmas tomorrow. I feel that we may have another disaster such as tonight," Lucius confessed.

"Don't stay away because of me," said Max.

"They don't want us around anyway; I'm not oblivious."

"Maybe if you listened more than you spoke. Maybe if you gave the slightest interest in things that they find interesting. The world doesn't revolve around you, Lucius."

Lucius sat up and looked on the edge of anger, surprise, and amusement.

"You're awfully outspoken," he said.

"I'm-"

"A Gryffindor, yes. Look, I apologize," he cringed at the word. "for convicting you of being a dirty blood. If I had known that you were a Drury, I never would have suspected."

"I have Drury blood which makes me feel unclean, dirty, and disgusting every day. I wish you to forget of my spurt. I wish I had never said," Max stopped playing at last.

"But this is fantastic for you!" Lucius said half enthusiastic, gripping Max by the arms. "You have a name! Immunity amongst respected individuals, if the world only knew!"

"The world will never know because I won't let them and neither will you!" Max called suddenly.

Lucius scowled. "You will regret your decision."

"Maybe, but I'll be the judge."

There was nothing else to be said without the start of another argument.

Lucius left for the foyer leaving Max at the piano, wondering what he could have done differently. The Grandparents didn't stay for dessert. Narcissa gathered up her things and made a spiteful comment about the beef casserole, pat Scorpius on the head, and exited through the door that her husband was holding open. Max joined the family to nod them out. With a gust of snow entering the house, the door was closed the horror was over.

Nobody spoke. "I'm sorry," Max said at last.

Draco turned. "You were both foolish, you were both wrong, but we will say nothing more of the event, right?"

Astoria nodded. Draco turned to his son with a raised eyebrow.

"I will say nothing more of the event," Scorpius complied.

The parents turned to clean up dinner.

"What the heck was that?" Scor mouthed to Max.

That night was a bit uncomfortable. Scorpius had joined Max in the guest room to scorn him then assure him that it was all going to be okay. Scorpius had gotten Max to play poker to take his mind off the evening but promised not to keep all that he had won from the gambling saying that this was only 'practice.'

The following morning continued as though the events of the past night had never happened. Music played lightly on its own as the family sat on the sofas to happily open gifts, only, the Malfoys liked to save the wrappings which made the process take a lot longer.

Max received a star maker from Scorpius (open and let loose to spray an accurate map of the constellations across any surface), a kite from Al (because of a disagreement they had had regarding its use), and a really nice crimson coat from Rose (because she had scorned him for not having on that fit properly and because she always ended up wearing his old blue one). She had also sent a variety of familiar Weasley-Potter sweet and pies.

The last gift was light weight and lumpy. He opened it to find, to his surprise, another Weasley jumper. This one navy blue with an orange 'M' embroidered on the front. He recognized the unique stitch from his last jumper and knew that this one had been made by Molly Weasley senior. It's difficult to explain when you're hit with the Christmas spirit at last. It's like you just took a sip of a hot butterbeer while standing in the snow with a fifty-piece orchestra slowly leading to the climax of Carol of the Snails. Max took a deep breath as he pulled the jumper over his head and suddenly emerged into the most festive living area he had ever seen. The Christmas tree glowed brighter and more beautiful. The most incredible smells of gingerbread and pine needles met his senses while the music had never sounded so sweet.

Max grinned at Scorpius, suddenly very giddy. Scorpius was opening a gift from Olivia which ended up being a pair of black running shoes with a note that read 'To help you keep up.' The last gift Scor took was wrapped in shiny green paper rather poorly compared the rest of his perfectly symmetrical gifts from his parents. It took a moment for Scorpius to understand what he was holding. A thick pile of wool lay limp over his arms. The wool was emerald green and over the front was a large silver letter 'S.' Scor froze for a moment, then swung the jumper over his head and grinned broader than ever.

"I got a Weasley jumper!" he called. "I'm like, totally in now!"

Draco stared openly at his son wearing the sweater but said nothing.

The rest of the day was spent in their new jumpers. The Malfoys tinkered with their Christmas items, baked for their Christmas feast, and Max tried his new kite outside but still had absolutely no idea what the significance of a piece of paper in the air was. Max was happy to share his Weasley-Potter sweets with the Malfoy family. Astoria was quite impressed. Scorpius bundled up in coat, hat, and scarf to wish the elderly neighbors a Happy Christmas.

Overall, the Malfoy Christmas was nearly the exact opposite of the Weasley-Potter version but surpassed the Everard's. Max was beyond grateful for his invitation and the Malfoy overlooking of his outburst. Scorpius was a good friend, Astoria was a gracious host, and Draco wasn't as everyone thought.