𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝟐.𝟏𝟕 - 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞

 The week passed by in a flurry of awkward, formal meals and boring days of hiding away in your room. Eventually, you had gotten so bored that you considered writing to Harry who was spending his Christmas at headquarters along with Sirius and the Weasley family. Of course, halfway through writing the letter you regained your common sense and tossed it into the fire.

You promised yourself that whatever you had to say to him could wait until you saw him in person. Besides, he couldn't expect you to reach out to him. You weren't the one who kissed the girlfriend of your dead friend.

 During meals, the only adult that dared to even look at you was Draco's mother, Mrs. Malfoy. Constantly throughout dinner, she would break the awkward silences and ask you how school was doing, what you were hoping to get for Christmas, or if there were any boys at school that you had your eye on. 

 It only increased the tension tenfold, but it also deepened your admiration for the woman. You could tell that whatever empathetic genes she had were passed down to Draco, despite his unwillingness to admit it.

You realized right away that your parents were avoiding you again, just like they had been over the summer. At first you didn't mind. In fact, you were relieved that they didn't expect you to be civil toward them. But after a while it started to bother you. Why drag you out of school for two weeks if they didn't even want to see you? Honestly, you would have been just as content spending the holiday at Hogwarts.

When you found yourself unwilling to leave your assigned room, Draco would come and coax you out. Whether he wanted to give you a tour of the rest of the manor or show you a new Christmas decoration that had just been set up, he was always ready with a new distraction.

Ever since the night you dreamt of Dark Marks and broken windows, he would spend at least an hour before bed sitting with you in front of the fire, reading to you from a book he had picked out or just making polite conversation until sleep began to weigh at your eyelids. He confessed to you recently that since you had come to stay with him and his family, he hadn't had a single nightmare.

 Before you knew it, you were waking up on Christmas Eve with yet another tapping on your window. You let Hedwig in and offered up a biscuit. This time, she had a heavy brown paper sack hanging from her sharp talons. As she ate, you read the note attached to the package. The handwriting was unfamiliar and messy, but you figured out very quickly on into the note that it was from Mrs. Weasley.

'(Y/N),

Ronald and the twins were wondering where you had gone off to for the holiday. If you ever need a warm meal or a pair of ears, you know where to find us. I consider you a part of our family, dear.

PS, I whipped this up last night. Didn't quite know your size so I guessed. If it doesn't fit, send it right back and I'll send Ron to school with another for you.'

You tore open the thin brown paper package to reveal an obviously handmade red and gold sweater. Your first initial had been embroidered carefully onto the front. For at least two minutes you just stood there and held it close to your chest. It smelled like cinnamon and hot tea.

You'd never received such a personal gift before in your life. It almost made you tear up. You didn't even care that it was roughly three sizes too big, there was no way you were sending it back. You loved it so much that you decided to wear it downstairs for breakfast and risk being asked where it came from.

The entire Christmas Eve day had been dedicated to preparing for the extravagant party that was to be held that night. Servants were rushing back and forth and the smell of gingerbread and other holiday goodies wafted throughout the manor.