Uncomfortable Truths

Chapter Seventy-Seven - Christmas Part 7: Winter Break Ends

Those little shits stayed longer than they planned. One day in Paris was not enough time to see everything they wanted to see, to do everything they wanted to do. Days, they were here for days. All of them, that includes Macmillan and Blaise, who are now in the 'little shits' category with the rest of the brats Draco had to deal with. Dean Thomas, not so much, he's still just Thomas.

The house was chaos, and Draco will only admit to Potter that this was the best Christmas break he's ever had. To the rest of the world, it was hell. Hell on Earth with Wadsmore and Macmillan reigning over his misery with pitchforks and talking. Mindless talking, and that's Ernie; it must be a Hufflepuff thing. Thank every god ever dreamt up that he was not sorted into that nasty house.

Weasley showed up the day after his sister's visit. He was full of apologies, but as much as he likes to give the ginger shit, it wasn't his fault. Potter said he handled it but he wouldn't meet his eyes. Which was fine since he listened at the door with Weasley for the whole of their conversation. Potter did as well as he could, she came off a bit skanky in his opinion, but she was trying to get his husband to not only bed her in his sitting room but to also run away with her. To abandon him and Kyle, like he wouldn't hunt that stupid scarhead down if he ever even thought about that.

Blaise and Macmillan had to return home for supplies, clothes and such. Ernie fucking Macmillan not only came back with enough stuff to spend the rest of the winter here, but he brought that goddamn cat. The cat had an equal amount of clothes as her companion. That stupid cat would creep around the manor like she did at Hogwarts. Those little shits were on edge and on their best behavior. Perhaps Mrs. Norris was a saving grace.

Then there was the whole Kyle and Ian factor, and Potter having fits about everything. He actually took Kyle's door off its hinges one night. How do you even do that? He still can't use his magic, so how did he manage to remove it? We had to get some of the help to show me how to fix that. Mother and I didn't even know you could remove a door. I needed to learn; I have a feeling this won't be the only time I'll have to give Kyle his door back. The worst part, the absolute worst part of the whole door fiasco is that bloody Wadsmore said I must be the mum, otherwise I wouldn't have given in to Kyle's whining.

It wasn't even about the whining; it was about decorum. Kyle, the twat, decided that if Potter took away his privacy, then he would change his clothes in the middle of the door way. The boy was stripped down to only his pants by the time I got to the hall. I had three little shits staring at my son in nothing but his boxer briefs. Steadforth, Dalia, and Daisy just stood there gawking! Where's the propriety? Where's the civility? Farnsworth should know better; she was raised correctly. A proper pureblood lady, but she's the reason I even found them, with her cat calls and whistles. I'm not sure about Dalia Collins, Collins is not a pureblood name, not that it matters, because it doesn't. Honestly, but there is propriety that's drilled into us. She just stood there, with her hands held in front of her, watching as if she was observing a lion at the zoo.

Steadforth was the bane and the boon through this entire catastrophe. Yes, he caused Potter to develop grey hair and yes, Potter showed me the grey hair. We plucked that out, he's too young for that. However, the boy knows how to wrangle those little bastards, he knows how to keep the peace after days of those horrible hooligans being in my home, they were here for days! He also makes the boy happy, some of the happiest times I've shared with Kyle; but the most important thing Steadforth did for us, the one thing that won him accolades with not only myself but with Potter, is that he convinced Kyle to give us those memories. Memories of the abuse from that Konklin horror.

Thinking of that Konklin boy, Steadforth came in handy yet again. We owled the memories to Severus, he assured us the boy would not be returning, and the memories would be sent along with the report from Macmillan and Blaise to the aurors department. The look of relief on Kyle's face made it worth the days of nagging and bickering. Stupid, stubborn child, if he had only come forward after Halloween, we could have had this boy removed earlier. Regardless, the memories were enough for expulsion from Hogwarts. A sizeable donation was enough to have Beauxbatons Academy of Magic to assure us that his application for admittance would be rejected. That'll leave only the Durmstrang Institute within a relative distance to his home. A school in which the Malfoy's have strong ties, a school in which Steadforth spent last year avoiding the war, making friends and allies. Friends that are closer to being like his friends from home than his friends from school. Friends that owe him. Steadforth sent seven owls in the last two days, all to his old friends from Durmstrang. Explaining the situation, asking to be informed if Konklin did end up attending. If he does, Ian plans on calling in all his favors. While I plan on calling in some of mine, what will it cost to turn a blinds eye to the torment of a boy who was expelled for inflicting the same on others. I'm not sure, but I'll find out.