Draco

Christmas Morning

"Oi!" Something smacked Draco into wakefulness. He sat up, spluttering, Ron's pillow falling over the edge of his bed.

"What's the big idea?" he groused, rubbing his eyes. "I was having a perfectly lovely dream..."

"Presents!" Ron said excitedly, tossing another pillow at him. Draco swatted it away in disgust.

"That's what you woke me up for?" he said indignantly. "Honestly, Weasely, Christmas comes every year, no need to get excited about it." He didn't add that he was sure his pile was going to be tiny, knowing his father. Deliberately not looking at the foot of his bed, he instead turned to Harry, who was gaping at the small mountain that belonged to him.

"I..." he stuttered. "I've got presents!" Draco frowned.

"You mean, you've never gotten any?" he demanded. Harry shrugged.

"I lived with the Dursleys" was his only reply. He stared down at his hands, embarrassed. Draco slid off of his bed and grabbed the biggest package, thrusting it into Harry's hands.

"Well go on then," he said with a smile. "Let's see what you've got, eh?"

With a large grin at his two friends, Harry ripped open the paper. Inside was a green sweater emblazoned with a golden snitch, some chocolates, and a letter. Ron went scarlet.

"That must be from my mum," he muttered. "She always knits everyone in our family a sweater, she must have decided to make one for you." He made a show of shuffling through his own gifts to hide his embarrassment. Harry laughed and pulled the sweater over his head before opening the letter. Ron ripped open the paper on one of his, and pulled out a maroon sweater. A large gold 'R' was knitted into it. Ron groaned.

"She knows I hate maroon," he complained.

"Goes well with your hair," Draco said, straight faced. Ron glared at him.

"What about you?" Harry asked Draco, forestalling any retort on Ron's part. "You've got a few, look!"

Draco attempted to put on a smile, but it didn't really stick well to his face, melting into a grimace. He grabbed the top package, settled onto the edge of his bed, and ripped it open. Immediately the room was filled with a nasty smell.

"Ugh!" Harry cried out, throwing his hands over his nose. Draco's faced burned with shame. The pile of dragon dung had no note, but he could guess who it was from. Ron hurried to open a window, and Draco ran over to pitch it out.

"Nasty," Ron grunted. "From your dad?"

"Who else?" Draco sighed. He grabbed a second package and opened it a lot more carefully. Inside was a small box of sweets, a smattering of his favorites, and a note. He tore open the envelope.

My dear star, it read. He smiled. It was from his mother.

I hope that this Christmas has found you happy, and among friends. The house feels very empty without you here to lighten the room. Your father hasn't been great company, and I admit that I have found myself wishing that you were here. However, I feel, and I hope that you will agree, that you are much safer where you are.

I couldn't send you very much, I didn't wish to arouse your father's suspicions. But know that I am thinking of you, and wishing that things were different.

I love you, my star. You are always in my heart.

Mum

He reread the note over and over, ignoring Ron's and Harry's exclamations of surprise as one of them opened an exciting gift. He tried to commit the long, curving handwriting to memory, imagining his mother as she sat at her desk, the soft scratch of her quill on parchment. When he was little, he had loved to watch her write. She had always looked serene, happy. Stronger, even, strong enough to take on his father.

"An invisibility cloak!" he heard Ron shout. He jerked upright.

"Say what?" he demanded. Ron pointed at Harry, and indeed, most of Harry's body was gone; only his head remained, floating in space.

"Blimey, that's wicked," Ron breathed. "Who gave it to you?"

"There was no name," Harry said breathlessly, searching for the wrapping paper. "It just said, use it well." He folded the cloak, holding it against his chest. Looking over at Draco, he pointed and said, "You've still got a present mate, you going to open it?"

Draco looked round in surprise, to see that indeed there was one more package left. Cautiously, he grabbed it and ripped the paper open.

A sapphire blue sweater met his fingers. Frowning in disbelief, he shook it out. Ron buried his face in his hands.

"Mum!" he groaned in exasperation.

"Shut up," Draco muttered back absentmindedly. He admired the silver and gold broomstick knitted into the wool. With a grin over at Ron, he pulled it over his head. He dug through the rest of the package until he found a letter from Mrs. Weasley.

Dear Draco, it read.

Ron told me how your family has been treating you since you were sorted into Gryffindor, and that you weren't expecting anything for Christmas, and that you weren't even sure if you were going home for the summer. Everyone deserves a little Christmas cheer, don't you think?

If you ever need anything, like a place to stay, know that my home is open to you.

Happy Christmas.

Mrs. Weasley.

Draco reread the last line over and over again. Finally, he looked up at Ron, a big lump in his throat.

"Your mum is an absolute angel," he managed to say. Ron gave him a weak grin, and shrugged.

"Happy Christmas, Draco," he muttered.