Now we'll get to see how holiday break went for Draco...

Chapter 13

Draco arrived home the first day of holiday break to find Malfoy Manor dark and dreary. Although his parents were often rigidly formal and never been ones to behave in overly-lighthearted or frivolous ways, they had always loved their only son fiercely in their own ways and he had always been able to feel their love for him. They had, therefore, always gone above and beyond to make Christmas a memorable time of the year for him, every year. Malfoy Manor had always been brightly decorated and festive; his mother had loved to throw huge galas for the holiday, and the cheery attitude had always been tangible.

Not this year… This year it was as though a black hole had opened up right in the center of his home, steadily sucking all life into it and leaving in its wake only a miasma of despair and oppression.

Narcissa Malfoy had quickly appeared, hugging her son tightly as soon as he had walked through the enormous double doors. He had felt clearly the slight tremors that had wracked her body as her thin arms had wrapped around his lean frame, crushing him to her with a strength that belied her physical appearance. He noted absently while holding her close that not one of their many house elves had shown themselves, although his belongings had already been sent to his room; they were making themselves invisible. He couldn't fight the feeling of certainty that it was to avoid coming under the attention of their most unwelcome houseguest.

As soon as the thought formed, Draco locked it down tightly and ruthlessly. He could not afford to be seen as anything other than reverential and sycophantic towards his Master, and he absolutely could not afford for the Dark Lord to see anything regarding the progress he had not (or in fact, had) made with the Vanishing Cabinet. Most especially, his cruel overlord could never be allowed to know about his friendship with a certain curly-haired, muggle-born witch. He took all of these things and shut them tightly behind the iron walls of his Occlumency shields.

The following day, he made his way into Diagon Alley to buy his mother her Christmas gift. He ignored the looks that he got as he walked; hateful, reproachful stares from most, along with a few respectful, fearful ones thrown in for good measure by the weak-willed witches and wizards that still feared the power that had once been carried by the Malfoy name.

He strode into a small store off of the main street that sold some of the best jewelry in wizarding London, according to his mother. He picked out a piece he knew she would like, a thick bangle of open woven gold with emeralds and diamonds encrusted upon it. The best part about the bracelet, however, and his main reason for choosing it, were the protective charms with which it was imbued. He knew that those charms would never be strong enough to protect her from the Dark Lord or the members his closest circle, but it should serve to keep her safe from most of the lower-ranking Death Eaters that were constantly coming into her home. As he turned to exit the shop, he saw something else, something that made him stop to take a closer look.

"Something else catch your eye, Mister Malfoy?" the shopkeeper, a middle-aged witch in lavender robes asked, eager for more of the Malfoy Galleons.

"I'd like to see that bracelet," Draco said, pointing to the one that had captured his attention.

"Ah, yes," she said knowingly as she retrieved the bracelet from its display case and brought it over for him to examine. "Perhaps for a lovely young witch at Hogwarts?" she asked, fishing for details as she flipped her chin-length auburn hair out of her face.

Her hazel eyes watched him closely for any tell, but he knew that she would be disappointed. Only two witches in the entire world could claim to be able to read him, and even then only on rare occasions; this woman was neither of them. She would believe that it was for some Pureblood Slytherin at Hogwarts, and that was fine…necessary, even. He remained silent, evaluating the bracelet that he now held in his hands.

It was a simple silver bangle that was open only slightly in the middle where the two ends did not quite meet. It had three small diamonds on one side and a delicately crafted feather on the other. He bought it immediately. He had thought of Granger as soon as he had seen it. He had the shopkeeper place upon the piece the same protective charms that were on the bracelet he had purchased for his mother. It was perfect.

Nothing so ostentatious as to draw anyone's attention, possibly putting her in danger, but just enough to give her some protection via the charms it now possessed. It also served the double purpose of allowing him to give her a gift for Christmas, to show her just how much her friendship had come to mean to him over the past couple of months. How much she had com to mean to him; although that would, of course, remain unspoked and buried deep within his mind. With a final nod at the nosy shopkeeper, he left and made his way home.

Over the next couple of days, the Dark Lord did not appear. He and his mother had spent hour upon hour anxiously awaiting the moment the man would walk back into their lives but had tried in spite of their nerves to enjoy the time that they had together. They had eaten every meal with one another and would walk together through the greenhouse that was connected to the Manor via large glass doors off of his mother's parlour. His mother had always loved watching things grow, and together they tended to the various flora, both mundane and magical, that thrived inside. While they worked, the spoke of easy things, such as his classes at Hogwarts, or new literature that the other had read. They spoke neither of the Dark Lord nor of Draco's task, for which he was immensely grateful. Not only did he not want to think of it, he also did not want to have to lie to his mother, the one person that he loved above all others in the world.

Just when Draco had allowed himself to be lulled into a sense of security, a belief that the Dark Lord might not come visit at all during his break from school, Christmas Eve arrived. Draco had gone upstairs to change for dinner and when he had entered the dining room, it was to find his mother sitting straight-backed and stiff in a chair next to the one that sat at the head of the table. Her face was cold and aloof, infamous Pureblood mask fully in place. Once Draco saw who was there, and why she was so frightened but trying so hard to hide it, his stomach heaved uncomfortably, and he found himself immensely grateful for his ever-present Occlumency shields in that moment.

The Dark Lord sat in Lucius's seat, his huge serpentine familiar curling around his bare feet.

"Ah, Draco. I've missed you."

The sound of his voice in the silent room sent shivers down Draco's spine, but the words themselves were worse by far. His mocking tone told Draco that the words were far from true, that the Dark Lord would be more than happy to find himself rid of his youngest Death Eater in all of his inept glory. Draco bowed low over his Master's proffered hand anyway, proud when no trace of the internal shivers racing up and down his spine were able to escape from the restraints of his shields.

"My Lord, you honor us with your presence."

Draco remained standing, knowing better than to sit in the Dark Lord's presence without being invited to do so. And he waited…. After several moments that seemed to stretch out for hours, the Dark Lord finally motioned, with a lazy wave of his hand, for Draco to take his seat.

"You fail me, Draco."

The Dark Lord began speaking as soon as Draco had taken his seat, wasting no time with false pleasantries but preferring to jump right into the heart of the matter as he was wont to do. Draco swallowed heavily but did not speak.

"Here we sit, nearly four months after I gave you your task, but you have yet to murder that doddering old fool that sits in his office at Hogwarts. Nor have you managed to mend the Vanishing Cabinet to allow my other, more faithful," he sneered the word as if it would wound Draco mortally to hear it, "Death Eaters entrance to the school. What have you to say to defend yourself, child?"

Draco nearly sneered at being called a child but luckily, for both his own wellbeing and that of his mother, was able to restrain himself.

You must control yourself, Draco, he thought to himself. You cannot afford to slip up like that. Not for your sake, nor for Mother's, nor for Granger's.

"I am working on it every day, My Lord. Every day I grow closer to an answer. I swear this to you. It remains my number one focus." He focused every fiber of his being, every ounce of mental strength that he possessed, on pushing everything else behind his Occlumency shields.

"Indeed?"

The skepticism in the Dark Lord's voice was undeniable, and it was clear that he did not believe Draco. Draco could feel the Dark Lord rifling about inside of his mind, probing at his shields and searching for any cracks or weak spots. Finally, he looked at what Draco had wanted him to see; Draco, alone, in the Room of Hidden Things, day after day, obsessing over the tall, obsidian cabinet that was the focus of his Master's current desires. With a purposely painful tug, the Dark Lord removed himself from Draco's mind.

Before Draco could blink, the Dark Lord's wand was in his hand and Draco found himself lifted from his chair, spine arching back from the pressure of the silent spell that the Dark Lord had cast. Draco tried to brace himself as best he could, preparing himself for the pain that he was certain would come next.

"I am pleased to hear this, young Malfoy. How about a gift, just a small reminder for you to continue to keep this as your…how did you put it? Number one focus?"

The Dark Lord smirked coldly and with a flick of his wand the pressure being exerted on Draco's spine increased exponentially, causing his back to arc even further. He could feel the muscles and tendons in his back popping with the pressure being exerted on them from the unnatural angle at which they were currently being held, and his mouth opened on a startled, pain-filled gasp. He heard his mother moan quietly, the only sound she had allowed to escape thus far that indicated her distress; had he been able to see her at that moment, he would have seen her gripping the edge of the table so tightly that her knuckles had turned bone-white, and silent tears tracked down cheeks gone bloodless at the sight of her son hanging, distorted, in the air.

"CRUCIO!"

Draco's body was dropped the five or so feet from where he had hovered to hit the floor with a sickening thud. He screamed as his body convulsed and writhed. The pain was excruciating, like being flayed alive while simultaneously being set afire. By the time the curse was lifted his muscles were twitching, causing his body to jerk, and he was covered head to toe in a fine sheen of sweat. He lay there, shaking and silent, waiting for what would come next.

"Here is your reminder, young Malfoy. Be sure that you don't disappoint me again."

Draco suddenly felt a sharp pain along his left side, followed by the sensation of something warm and wet seeping through his clothes to stain the floor beneath his still-twitching body. A groan slipped from between his tightly clenched teeth, the sound coming from deep in his chest and full of pain. He leaned forward with what little strength remained in his body to see blood pouring from a long gash in the dark green dress robes that he had worn down to dinner.

"Draco!" his mother screamed, rushing over to his side. Cool hands frantically and firmly clamped down on his side as she tried to staunch the flow of blood, and her tear-filled blue eyes flew up to clash with inhumanly red ones that watched her without a hint of sympathy.

"You are not to heal his wound using any magical means whatsoever, Narcissa," the Dark Lord instructed her harshly. "He will heal the muggle way. That will ensure that he will learn this lesson more effectively, and work harder to not displease his Lord again in the future."

His mother's head bowed in acquiescence, blonde hair tumbling over one shoulder with the movement; Draco knew that the gesture of subservience was actually a way to keep the Dark Lord from seeing her fury over his brutal attack on her beloved son. She nodded and the Dark Lord, satisfied that his will would be obeyed, turned and left the Manor with one last reminder hissed threateningly into the silence of the room:

"Remember, Draco. Do not disappoint me again. I will not be so compassionate in the future."

He left without another backwards glance at the 16-year-old boy that he had left to bleed out on the floor.

The next morning, Christmas Day, was subdued to say the least. Not surprising considering Draco's mother had spent several hours tending to his wound in the muggle fashion with the help of his childhood house elf, Mipsy. Narcissa had finally left him to sleep at around four o'clock in the morning, his entire abdomen covered in white bandages to keep on the creamy paste that Mipsy had found in a muggle shop, and which claimed to be able to help heal wounds.

Narcissa brought him breakfast in bed, a luxury that he hadn't been given since he had been a small child. Then, she helped him into his most comfortable robe, so as to not disturb with any tight clothing the bandages that covered his upper body like a mummy's dressings, and assisted him downstairs to the sitting room where their Christmas tree and all of their gifts were. Although neither of them felt up to acting out the charade of a family's happy Christmas morning, they both also knew that they needed the attempt at routine and normalcy along with the temporary amnesia it could bring to the horrific memories of the previous night.

Narcissa insisted that Draco open his presents first, just as she had always done since he had been a small child. The first gift she gave to him made his heart turn to lead in his chest, but he also knew it was a necessity with Lucius in Azkaban: the Malfoy signet ring. He stared at the heavy platinum ring, its green crest nestled on a circle of black onyx and proudly bearing a large, stylized M in the center of the ornate crest. The silver banner surrounding the large M bore his family's motto: Sanctimonia Vincet Semper, words he had been taught from the cradle. Purity Will Always Conquer. He stared at it and, although what he really wanted to do with it was launch it out of the large window to his right, he slipped the heavy ring onto the third finger of his right hand. He was officially the head of the Malfoy household. The thought made him want to vomit.

In addition to this cringe-worthy gift, however, his mother had also gotten him some other, normal Christmas gifts. They succeeded, if only momentarily, in taking his mind off of the absolute shit-show that his life had become. She had picked out a wonderful new velvet-lined winter cloak; black of course, as he wore almost no other color (the dark green dress robes he had donned the night before had been one of the few exceptions, and he had already had Mipsy burn them in an attempt to rid himself of the reminder of what had happened while he had worn them).

His mother had also gotten him a new pair of dragon-hide boots for the winter, as well as a pair of onyx and silver cufflinks that had a small diamond in the center of each and which had come from the Malfoy family vaults. Indulging her son's horrendous sweet teeth, she had also supplied him with a large packet of sugar quills, his favorite candy since he had been a toddler.

Draco in turn gave his mother the bracelet that he had purchased for her in Diagon Alley, and she had thanked him very politely for it, ever the demure and circumspect Pureblood at all times. He could see her happiness with her gift, however, in the slightly brighter-than-normal shine in her brilliant blue eyes, so much more vivid than his own pale blue eyes.

They had tried to make Christmas Day as normal as they could, but every time Draco flinched in pain from his wound, he saw the fine lines around his mother's mouth tighten; the movement would have been imperceptible to anyone apart from her husband and son, but Draco didn't miss a single one. They did their best to ignore it, however, and Mipsy and the other house elves outdid themselves that evening when preparing a Christmas dinner for their Mistress and the Young Master.

The remaining week and a half leading up to his return to Hogwarts was, blessedly, free of the Dark Lord, and Draco was able to take time to rest and heal, as well as spending as much time as possible with his mother. On the last night, once Narcissa had retreated to her bedchamber and left her son to his own devices, Draco found himself sitting in the armchair near the roaring fireplace in his bedroom; his thoughts were on Granger. He wondered what she was doing, and if she'd had a good holiday with her parents; he knew how much she'd been looking forward to the time with them. Most of all, he just hoped that she was safe.

He held her bracelet in his hands, absently running his fingers along the slender silver band, and wondered if there was any chance that she was thinking of him too, then questioned why he would even be thinking of that at all…

Then again, he had a suspicion that he knew exactly where that thought came from, after all…

Song Inspiration: Control - Halsey

I don't know about you all, but I'm ready to see these two back at Hogwarts together!

sbz