Underneath the Mistletoe

ChapterFortyOne

Draco's POV
FifthYear-Day One

Dinner with the Felloraya's went about just as well as Draco expected it to.

They arrived just after noon. Just after Draco had gathered his pride and dignity to apologize to his parents over tea for his 'disgusting outburst of inappropriate behaviour.' Whatever that meant, Draco had inwardly rolled his eyes.

Cora had swept into the entrance room  wearing velvet robes of fuchsia. Her brown hair was curled, brown eyes coated in a shimmery pink shadow, her cheeks dusted with blush. He thought she looked like a plastic doll. Overdone and fake. As most purebloods were. He smartly kept his mouth closed and didn't share his thoughts. Instead he kissed the top of her extended hand which smelled of a strong rose perfume. He did the same to Meave's hand. The girl looked almost exactly the same as when they'd been eleven and last seen each other. Thin brown hair, long nose, sharp chin, brown eyes. She was short, thin, and in Draco's  opinion quite plain. She didn't have a face one would remember if it weren't for her status, wealth, and defined features. 

"Draco, it's been so long!" Cora smiled at him. It was forced. Anyone could have seen that. However Draco acted as if he didn't and smiled back at her.

Despite Draco being younger than Cora he had been raised since birth to know how to hold himself, shoulders back, and head held high. He knew how to play the games Purbloods so often did at parties and gatherings. He knew what kind of body language to fake, what tone of voice he had to imply, and which words to say.

"Far too long," he had agreed.

-x-

All five of them sat at the dining table, the lights were dimmed and candles were lit. Draco could see Meave, who was sitting across from him out of the corner of his eye. She was staring at him from beneath her eyelashes. He didn't glance at her so much as once.

"We're hosting a party in your honour. I was thinking two nights from now?" Draco's Mother announced before taking a sip of her wine. Draco almost spat out his asparagus. Apparently no one told him anything anymore.

"Darling, you're too kind." Cora simpered, and Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Who've you invited?" He thought he heard a hint of anxiety in her tone.

His Mother set her glass down. "The usual group, along with a special guest or two."

Cora pursed her lips. "And what of the Parkinson's?"

"Off to Paris."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"Do tell Cora," Draco's Father spoke up from his seat at the head of the table, "what have you been up to lately?"

"Ah, well," her shoulders loosened and she relaxed back into her seat. "The usual Lucius. Yesterday I helped rally a Mudblood and Squib protest." She looked rather proud of herself.

"Really? I wasn't aware you were interested in such matters."

"Well of course!" Cora exclaimed. "Why should such blasphemies be taught our ways? It's essentially the same thing as telling a muggle about our world and handing them a wand! I can't believe you've let Draco go to a school, Hogwarts, that permits such a thing."

Draco stiffened and watched his parents carefully for their reactions.

"Draco doesn't associate himself with such..." his Fathers lips curled and he sneered, "people."

"I'd expect as much. Neither does Meave, her school doesn't teach such," she frowned, "people. But what about other children? They're lead astray, their minds tainted. I find it truly despicable."