Chapter Thirty-Three

Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England, 23 December, 1991

She was going to lose her mind.

There were no more doubts, no more questions about it: Narcissa Malfoy was going to go insane. She and her family threw this party every year, and every year it got harder to concentrate and the list of last minute "touches" became longer. She still had to put up all of the decorations, make sure that her children hadn't blown anything up, confirm the musicians, and make sure Lucius had picked up the costumes for the house-elves.

She rubbed her temples tensely. And this year, the Potter's, Greengrass's, Zabini's (or whatever her last name was now), and Longbottom's were coming. The Weasley's had been invited as well, but they'd declined. Their daughter was coming, though, along with their youngest son who, as her sons had assured her, was nothing like his brothers.

The boys were upstairs, panning the activities for the younger guests, as they'd also mentioned that watching adults "mingle" for hours on end was "dead boring".

She had to agree. All of the parties she'd attended as a girl had been stuffy and boring. Luckily, Lucius was her friend and often found a way to sneak away with her, or she was sure she'd have died of sheer boredom.

She smiled at the memory of one particular night when they'd sneaked into Hogsmeade and gotten smashed at the Three Broomsticks.

Neither of their parents were at all pleased.

"Mum? Can we put a big slide on the back staircase?" Adrian called.

That snapped her out of her reverie. "No, you may not! You may use the spare parlor for your festivities, and remember that you have reputations to keep intact."

"Fine," he called back, slamming the door.

She sighed and went back to the list.

"Mama!"

She looked up and directly into the teary eyes of her daughter. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Uwsa!" she cried.

"Accio Ursa!" Narcissa said tiredly, waving her wand. The bear came flying out of the kitchen and hit the tired woman in the head.

"Here you are, Vela."

Lucius came down the stairs in n

Nothing but pajama pants, and Narcissa studied his finely muscled chest, arms, and stomach before returning to the list.

She was tired, not dead.

"You should take a break, Narcissa. You've been up all night," he said, scooping the toddler off of the desk.

"I'm not tired," she replied, the sentence nullified by the huge yawn that escaped her a moment later.

He chuckled and set a squirming Marvela on the floor. "You need to sleep," he said. "I'll stun you if I have to."

"Alright, but could you floo the musicians and tell them that we'll pay after they've played, and then go to Diagon Alley and pick up some more decorations, and then…………."

Her head had been dropping lower and lower as she went on, and she was now fully asleep on her list.

Lucius smirked, rolled his eyes, and picked her up easily out of her chair. He carried her up to their bedroom and set her on the bed gently, covering her with the comforter and knowing full well that she'd only kick the blankets off.

He got dressed quietly and grabbed his cane from his closet. After warning his twins that there would be hell to pay if they woke their mother, he dressed Marvela in her warmest clothes and flooed to the musician's studio.

"What?!"

"I'm sorry, Mister Malfoy, but the band is very ill. We've been meaning to floo-"

"And now, my wife's party is tomorrow, we have over fifty guests, and no music?" Lucius said, voice shaking with his mounting fury, "because you 'meant to floo'?"

The manager quailed under Lord Malfoy's raptor-like glare. The baby on his hip didn't seem to detract from the fear he radiated.

"Yes, w-well, you'll get your money back, of course, and we-"

"Oh, I will get my money back, and you will pay me not to spread it around that your business is so disorganized and sloppy that the Weasley's wouldn't hire you for a barbeque!" he shouted at the man, reducing the poor manager to a quivering mass.

Shaking, Lucius stormed out of the shop, slamming the door behind him so hard the windows shook.

"And that," he whispered to his daughter, "is how Daddy can get whatever he wants from everyone but Mummy."

She nodded solemnly, seeming to take her father's words to heart.

"That's my girl. Now, did your mother need gold or silver bulbs?" he asked.

"Puwple!"

"Purple isn't a Christmas color, brat," he chuckled, pulling the hood of his black wool cloak over his head.

"'s my favowit!" she said, spreading her arms wide and giggling.

"Of course," Lucius said seriously.

"Da?" she asked, tugging lightly on his hair.

"Yes?"

"No music?" she asked.

"None yet, and I'm afraid that if I tell your mother, her head will actually explode," he sighed.

The little girl's widened and her bottom lip started to quiver.

"No, no, no! Daddy was only joking!" he said quickly, bouncing her u and down.

"Lucius?"

He turned, smiling, and came face to face with none other than James and Lily Potter. "Good afternoon, Lord and Lady Potter."

"Good afternoon. Bit of last minute shopping?" Lily asked him, smiling and waving at Marvela, who hid shyly.

"Yes, just some Christmas decorations," he replied stiffly.

"We're looking forward to your party tomorrow night," Lily continued, still smiling.

Lucius forced a smile back onto his face. "We are as well. I really must be going. So much to do, not nearly enough time. Good day."

"Good day," they said, walking off arm in arm.

"Da?"

"Yes, Vela?" Lucius said, strolling into the holiday shop.

"She has gween eyes," she said critically.

"She does indeed."

"Like Adwian's."

Lucius stopped in his tracks. He flipped through his memories of Adrian before the ceremony, and he did indeed have eyes like those of Lily Potter, and unruly black hair like her husband.

Was Adrian, the boy he'd loved and raised as his own, a Potter?

Dun, dun, duuuuuuuuuuuuuun!

Hahahahaha, so Lucius is catching on. Finally!

By the way, I made an error: Marvela is almost three, not two. Sorry.

Anyways, read and review. I'm sick, so reviews make me feel all better.