The Chaos Within (A Bellatrix Fanfiction)

Ash And Snow (Part II)

Vaella apparated into my room, balancing a gingerbread latte and a croissant, and for a moment, I almost believed it was a normal Christmas. 

Bellatrix was already gone. Nothing new there then. 

Christmas morning at the Manor was quieter than I'd expected.

No explosions of sound, no forced cheer; just the low crackle of the fire and the muted hum of the house waking around us. I dressed slowly, head still aching faintly from the night before, and followed the scent of coffee and citrus peel down the stairs.

My parents were already there.

My mother sat on the edge of the sofa, elegant even this early, a porcelain cup cradled in both hands. My father stood near the window, posture relaxed but watchful, speaking in low tones with Lucius. Draco lounged in one of the armchairs, collar open, hair still faintly rumpled, looking more himself than he had in weeks.

Narcissa noticed me first.

"Good morning, Erin," she said, smiling softly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough," I replied, meaning I survived it.

She gestured me closer, and only then did I notice the small arrangement on the low table near the fire; neatly wrapped parcels in silver and green, arranged with careful symmetry.

"Shall we?" Narcissa asked lightly.

It wasn't announced as a ceremony, but it became one anyway.

My mother rose at once, eyes bright. "Oh, how lovely."

Draco smirked. "You'd think she's never seen presents before."

"Don't be unkind," Narcissa said, though there was fondness in it.

She handed me a small box first.

"For you," she said. "From me."

I hesitated, just a fraction, before accepting it. The wrapping was immaculate. Inside lay a bracelet: delicate silver, set with a deep green stone that caught the light without flashing it. Subtle. Expensive. Thoughtful.

"It belonged to my aunt," Narcissa added quietly. "She wore it often."

My throat tightened unexpectedly.

"Thank you," I said. "It's... beautiful."

Something maternal flickered in her expression; not possessive, not intrusive. Simply present.

Draco cleared his throat loudly. "Right, well, mine's not ancestral or emotionally loaded."

He handed me a small parcel, grin crooked. Inside was a book, a rare Potions compendium I'd mentioned once, months ago.

"You remembered," I said, surprised.

"Don't sound so shocked," he replied. "I do listen. Occasionally."

My parents followed.

My mother's gift was practical; gloves, enchanted to warm without bulk, but chosen with care. My father's was quieter: a slim notebook bound in dark leather.

"For your thoughts," he said simply.

I swallowed. "Thank you."

Only then did it hit me.

I hadn't bought anything.

The realisation landed hard, heat rising behind my eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, to apologise, to explain-

But Narcissa moved smoothly, as if anticipating it.

"Ah," she said, reaching for another set of parcels. "Before I forget."