Inferno | Draco Malfoy

113 | The Year the Decorations Decided to Fight Back

December
2002.

On this chilly December afternoon, the atmosphere is suffused with a dreamlike quality, accentuated by the fragrant notes of pine and cinnamon wafting through the air. Outside, the landscape is blanketed in a soft layer of snow, with each flake glistening like miniature diamonds beneath the soft winter daylight.

The approach of Christmas, one of my most favourite holidays, fills me with a bubbling anticipation for the time I will spend with family and friends, sharing laughter, stories, and the warmth of togetherness. Reflecting on last year brings a smile to my face as I recall the memories we forged; it was indeed remarkable, as it was Draco and I's first Christmas as a married couple. The joy of our inaugural holiday season together was enriched with new traditions, and I am confident that this year will be equally delightful, if not more so, as we continue to craft our unique collection of holiday memories.

"Are you certain you want to decorate this without the use of magic?" Draco inquires with scepticism, as we stand before our grand, undecorated Christmas tree — a genuine fir gifted by Tracey during her expedition in Canada over the Christmas season.

The tree stands tall and proud, its branches reaching out like welcoming arms, ready to be adorned with ornaments. This thoughtful present was a lovely surprise for both me and my friends who also received a tree, serving as a tangible piece of Tracey's journey that has become a cherished part of our holiday now.

I can't help but chuckle at his question. "Absolutely! There is something uniquely special about doing it the old-fashioned way," I respond, my heart swelling with enthusiasm. "It adds a personal touch, making it feel more... authentic."

I glance at Draco, who is staring at the tree with a focused expression, his arms crossed over his chest as if in deep thought. It's evident that he is deliberating on the most effective strategy for this task — being a perfectionist, the notion of anything not meeting his high standards is challenging for him to accept. Yet, I catch the slight upturn of his lips, indicating that he comprehends the underlying meaning behind my words and how much this means to me.

"Very well," He says, rubbing his hands together in keenness, leading me to believe that he is about to channel his perfectionism into productive energy. "Let's get this started."

As we begin the process of unpacking the decorations from their boxes, I find myself reflecting on the ornaments we have gathered both individually and collectively throughout the years — each piece representing a treasured memory, a moment frozen in time.

Among the assortment of eclectic and enchanted ornaments, there exists a luminous bauble representing the Draco constellation (a gift from his parents), a hand-painted bauble from my childhood, adorned with an array of vibrant colours, and a delicate glass bauble from the previous year, magically charmed to reveal a clip of us snogging when touched.

This particular ornament evokes laughter, as it recalls the amusing incident when Draco attempted to enchant a mistletoe to hover above my head during last year's Christmas dinner with our family and friends. Spoiler alert: it did not go as planned! Instead of floating gracefully, the mistletoe decided to crash-land on both our heads the moment we kissed, creating the illusion that we were sporting a new fashion statement.

Blaise managed to capture this moment in a moving photograph using Daphne's magazine camera, effectively preserving the mirth and spontaneity of that memorable evening. And when the following day came, Draco and I chose to turn it into a bauble, a tangible keepsake to cherish the memory.

"This is definitely my favourite decoration," Draco remarks with a smile as he picks up the glass ornament I have been admiring. In an instant, the enchantment is triggered, revealing a flash from the camera and a snapshot of us sharing a kiss with the mistletoe perched atop our heads.