Vincula sanguinis, H. Potter

Twelve.

January 6th, 1996. Malfoy Manor.

The first week of winter holidays at Malfoy Manor dragged by like a slow, dull ache. The days stretched long and silent, each one blending into the next, as though time had ceased to matter in the frozen halls of their home. Snow covered the grounds like a thick, suffocating blanket, muting all sound and turning the vast estate into a place of eerie stillness.

Aurora Malfoy had spent most of that week in a haze of boredom and restlessness. The initial thrill of being free from school quickly evaporated as the reality of being trapped inside the manor settled over her. There were no friends to gossip with, no casual trips to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, and no sense of excitement. Just an overwhelming sense of stagnation that hung over the house like a dark cloud.

The manor, grand and imposing as it was, had always been a place of cold beauty-beautiful on the outside, but inside, it was like a gilded cage. The corridors stretched endlessly, and the rooms, once lively with guests and parties, were now quiet. Aurora often found herself wandering the halls aimlessly, trying to avoid the oppressive atmosphere that seemed to grow heavier with each passing day.

Draco was little better off. He spent most of his time sulking in his room or venting his frustration over games of wizard's chess. Even his usual snark seemed muted, as though the weight of the Dark Lord's return had drained some of the fire out of him. Lucius was absent most of the time, locked away in his study or attending to mysterious business that neither Aurora nor Draco were privy to. Narcissa, as always, maintained a veneer of perfect composure, but there was a tension in her face, a tightness around her eyes, that hinted at the worry she tried so hard to hide.

Aurora sighed as she stood by the large window in one of the many sitting rooms, watching the snow fall gently over the grounds. The glass was cold beneath her fingertips, the frost creeping up the edges of the pane like icy fingers. The world outside was a pristine white-untouched, undisturbed. It was beautiful in its own way, but there was something about the stillness that made her uneasy.

The sound of footsteps behind her broke the silence, and she turned to see Draco entering the room, wrapped in a thick, fur-lined robe. He looked as bored and irritable as she felt, his normally sharp features softened by the faint frown tugging at his lips.

"If I have to sit through one more of Mother's lessons on etiquette and manners, I'm going to hex myself." Draco grumbled, flopping down onto one of the plush black sofas. He stretched out his legs and crossed his arms over his chest, his grey eyes flicking toward Aurora. "I swear, she's doing it just to torture me."

Aurora smirked, her head still pressed against the glass. "She wouldn't notice. She's too busy playing hostess to Father's 'important visitors.'"

"Tell me about it. I think Father's brought half the Ministry through our house since break started," Draco huffed, flopping down into an armchair. "And we're not allowed to do anything fun. I can't even step outside without mother scolding me for going out in the cold."