𝘿𝙐𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙎 ; 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮

xx.

xx. | TWENTY.
❦
8 december, 1998
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

As cordially promised, Mr. Malfoy brings Ivory to Malfoy Manor via Apparation. The Floo Network fell maladapted due to heavy use for Christmas Holidays, so Headmaster McGonagall permitted Apparation for all professors.

Ivory wasn't the fondest of Apparation. She detested the revolting sensation of her food lapsing in her stomach — as she warped and wheedled through time and space. It was exceptionally fetid to try and keep her stomach calm.

They stand in front of the prodigious — and enigmatic manor standing before them. It looks different with the crystalline hide of snow coating the usually manicured lawn. Laden with snow, the pine trees sag beneath the weight. A layer also lies over the grand buttresses. The path drawling up to the manor is covered by a sheet of ice, the hedges enclosing it also completely covered in a winter's kiss.

Gusts of wind blow shards of snowflakes onto her legs, concealed by a pair of white tights. Her hands are enshrouded beneath ivory-colored mittens, her coat billowing in the wind.

She looks up at him — and the notion that he is a personified, embodied form of this frigid season makes itself obvious. He looks gorgeous, a contrast of radiance against the earnest, melancholic gray skies behind him. She can barely see the flecks of snow in his white hair — as it ebbs to the clamor of the wind. Snowflakes dwell on the rim of his spectacles, and she smiles gingerly, while brushing them off.

He chuckles. "Thank you." His unclad hands settle on either side of her crimson cheeks. A gasp leaves his lips, fog eluding from his mouth. "Darling, you're frigid! Let's get you inside, and you could have some cocoa by the fire — I'll have the elves tend to you."

She smiles at his hospitality and clutches his bicep, admiring him as he brings her to the door to the capacious home. Through the frosted windows, she sees the jovial glow of holiday lights, the excitement causing her to clutch his arm tighter.

The interior of the Manor is a rather happy variation against it's usual caliginosity. A towering Christmas tree stands in the luxurious lounge, just shy of reaching the chandelier. House elves are gathered around the warmth of the tree, stowing pristine ornaments on its branches.

Only a mere month ago, she was sobbing on the prodigious staircase over Scorpius. And now, here she was. Striding over the threshold, practically joined at the hip with his father. What a populous upgrade.

He discards of her trench for her, bringing it over to a mahogany cubby aside the door — taking off his own, as well. Tons of vitality makes itself an abode in her stomach at the sight of the decorations. A gramophone in the corner of the room croons Muggle Christmas songs, prompting a smile onto her lips.

A house elf hands her a goblet of cocoa, a bunch of marshmallows floating on the surface buoyantly. Ivory grins, sipping the congenial drink, giving the elf a nod of thanks. "This is delectable, thank you." She says amiably, but is hewed off by a small gasp, eluding from her lips when the elf escorts her to the chaise by the sleeve of her turtleneck.

Mr. Malfoy chuckles candidly, his eyes twinkling at her. While he rolls up the sleeves of his oxford shirt, she admires his rather large forearms, with veins and muscles pining through them. The elves remove her Mary-Janes and begin massaging her feet with their skinny fingers. She gives an averse giggle, looking to Mr. Malfoy for salvation from the awkward moment.