Draya Malfoy

17 - Pink Macarons

"Guess what?!" Daphne gushed as she joined us at the breakfast table on the morning of the first day of the Christmas Holidays, her face shiny with excitement.

"What?" I grumbled, chewing on the corner of my toast. I had just received news from Mother telling me not to bother coming home for Christmas. Apparently Father was in the middle of something important and didn't want me in the way.

Yeah sure, because what parent doesn't want to spend Christmas with their only child?

So I was to be stuck in this hell hole.

"Potter had a dream!"

"Woo hoo, give him another fucking trophy," I snapped, still sore about our last encounter, "who the fuck does he think he is anyway? Martin Luther King?!"

I was met with blank stares.

"Who's that?" Pansy asked, blinking. "Is he new? I heard they're short of students in Hufflepuff these days."

I just rolled my eyes and tutted.

"Anyway," Daphne rushed out, keen to depart her latest bit of gossip, "it wasn't just any dream, he dreamt that he was murdering the Weasley's dad! Apparently Dumbledore took pity on him and let him start his Christmas holiday early!"

"Wait, so all I have to do to get out of here is to wake up the headmaster in the middle of the night, crying about a bad dream?" I spluttered disbelievingly.

"Yeah," Theo muttered, pouring himself a coffee, "if you're Potter."

Well, this really took the pumpkin pasty! Wait until my father hears about-

Oh.

Glumly, I waved my friends off after breakfast, watching as they hopped up onto the horseless carriages, too busy talking excitedly about their Christmas plans to bother waving back.

And then I turned back to the empty castle, and trudged my way up the steps toward a very lonely Christmas.

*****

It wasn't all bad. Professor Umbridge invited me into her office for Earl Grey tea over the holidays where we swapped 'I hate Harry Potter' stories and ate pink macarons.

She even gave me a present on Christmas morning: a pink fluffy cardigan which matched her own. I smiled politely but silently vowed never to wear it. In return, I gifted her a velvet green hair bow to go with her collection.

I put all my efforts into pleasing her. If I couldn't make Father proud, then maybe she was the next best thing.

She seemed to like me, after all.

When Blaise returned from the holidays, he pretty much stopped talking to me altogether, unimpressed when I told him of Umbridge's plans to sack Trelawney for being a waste of existence.

"The old bag has it coming," I shrugged, "Merlin only knows what Dumbledore was thinking when he hired her. She's about as useful as a chocolate teapot."

"It's her job!" Blaise spluttered. "Her livelihood! You know this is her home, don't you?"

"Please," I scoffed, wondering since when did Blaise give a stuff about the homeless. "It can't be like she's short of gold - it's free board and free food all school year round!"

Blaise, preferring to stick to his boring Prefect duties, stayed well clear of the Inquisitorial Squad. Didn't he realise that the Squad was far more powerful? Luckily, Pansy understood, and was keen to serve alongside me. I was grateful for her unwavering support.

"Right, Squad," Umbridge said one night as we gathered in her office for tea and a team catch up. "Tonight, I want to catch that Potter out. He's been laughing behind my back for far too long now. It seems that my special detentions refuse to break him."