The World and Her Stars

Chapter Forty

ROSE POV

The boys were called to share a traditional Christmas Eve cigar with their fathers after the borderline feast we had for dinner.

Draco and I reluctantly were separated for the first time in days, and I found myself actually missing him.

Much to my dismay, I had become one of those people.

I returned back to my room in a tired daze from all the food I had eaten at dinner, and found a small bag sitting on my bed. A gift bag.

There was no note attached. But a brown bag with white tissue paper, and inside, a pair of festive pajama pants.

Flannel material. Black and green plaid. And exactly what I needed right now.

I stripped off my dress and slid on the wonderfully soft pants, and threw myself down onto the bed, allowing myself a nice post dinner nap.

I didn't dream. Thank Merlin.

It was like a little Christmas present to myself.

We had spent the day wrapping presents for one another, trying our best to hide the gifts from each other's peeping eyes.

Draco nearly saw the little box with the ring I got him in it, but a quick jab to the ribs from Millicent, who sat wrapping gifts next to me, sent him back with a scowl.

The soft light of the small Christmas tree Narcissa had decorated created a small sense of serenity in my room, and I actually found myself looking forward to Christmas.

Maybe we could have one normal day.

I was woken up by a very tipsy and cigar-smelling boy crashing on top of me as I slept.

"I'm sleeping." I groaned.

"Not anymore." Draco said in a sing songy kind of voice. Seems that he dipped into that special whiskey Lucius only pulled out for the holidays, as his breath smelled strongly of it.

"You smell like whiskey." I nuzzled my head further into the pillow, wanting to crash back into sleep.

He blew in my face for a second before rolling off of me with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"How was it?" I gave up on trying to fall back asleep, and propped myself up on my elbow facing him.

"Just as it always is." He turned to face me as well, "Old men talking about their glory days while the younger lot just smile, nod, and smoke the fancy cigars."

"Sounds boring." I said.

"It is." His breath smelled faintly of peppermint, but still strongly of whiskey.

I looked down to see that he had changed, and that he was wearing the same pajama pants that were wrapped up on my bed.

"Where did you get those?" I pointed.

"These?" he pinched the fabric of the pants, "My mother gets me...pajamas every year. I put them on to humor her. It's a stupid tradition." He sounded slightly embarrassed, but I found it incredibly endearing.

"Well look what was sitting on my bed when I walked in earlier." I lifted up the duvet and showed him my legs.

"Sneaky woman, she is." He shook his head slowly.