The FLC: A Home For The Holiday

1. A Home For The Holiday

The Forbidden Love Chronicles-A Home For The Holiday

Authors Note: This was supposed to be released at Christmas of 2004, but...well...I'm a bit late apparently.

***

“Ouch!” Hermione scowled as Harry and Ron laughed, not for the first time, at yet another of her spills on the ice. Ginny was a few feet away, bent low at the knees, face screwed up in concentration as she tried not to fall again, and Luna skated in a graceful circle before coming to help Hermione to her feet.

“Your girlfriend is quite graceful, Ron,” Draco said, watching Luna. Ron’s ears went pinker than usual. It seemed he wasn’t accustomed to anyone using the term ‘your girlfriend’ in reference to him.

“Thanks,” Ron said.

“Why are you taking credit?” Hermione snapped, trying to keep her feet beneath her as Luna helped her inch toward shore. “Like you’re responsible or something.”

“And your girlfriend,” Draco said, looking over at Harry, who was watching Hermione with a loving grin on his face, “is quite grouchy.”

“You would be too,” said Hermione, glaring at Draco, “if your bum was a sore and cold as mine.”

“And your girlfriend,” Ginny said to Draco, “is stuck.”

“Hang on,” Luna said, escorting Hermione to shore where Draco, Harry, and Ron were watching them learn to ice skate. Harry wrapped Hermione in a hug and kissed her, once on each cheek and once on the lips so that by the time he was done she was struggling to maintain her gruff exterior.

“What’s that sound?” Draco said, looking away from Harry and Hermione. It was an odd squeaky noise that was deepening to a groan. A moment later Luna’s already protuberant eyes widened and she pointed to the lake.

A crack had formed in the ice to Ginny’s right and was rushing right for her. She stood still, watching in wide-eyed horror as the crack raced for her. She would surely fall into the icy water when it reached her. Draco pulled his wand and aimed it at Ginny.

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

Ginny flew straight into the air, about eight feet, just as the ice beneath her broke. With another flick of his wand Ginny floated safely to his arms, where, she saw, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Luna all had their wands drawn.

“The ice felt so sturdy!” Ginny said, eying it warily. She shivered, more from nerves than from the cold.

“It was sturdy,” Luna said. Everyone followed her rather pointed stare and found Pansy Parkinson surrounded by a gang of Slytherin girls, all of whom were laughing and pointing in Ginny’s direction.

“That does it!” Draco said, moving toward Pansy with his face full of anger. Ginny stepped in front of him. “I’m putting her in her place!”

“Draco, don’t!” Ginny said, holding him back.

“You could have been hurt,” he said indignantly.

“I can handle her and her pranks,” Ginny said calmly.

“He’s right, Ginny,” Hermione said. “Pansy has been harassing you constantly for the past two months.”

“And it’s getting nastier,” Harry said, “from tripping you in the corridors between classes to this.”

“Don’t forget she made you break your ankle,” Draco pointed out, eyeing Pansy with disgust, “when she tripped you and you tumbled down two flights of stairs last Thursday.”

“You could have broken your neck,” Ron said, scowling deeply at Pansy.

“You really should do something,” Luna piped in airily.

“Fine!” Ginny said irritably. “I’ll speak to Professor McGonagall.”

“I want to be there when you do,” Draco said.

“Why?” Ginny asked coolly. “Don’t you trust me to keep my word?”

“Of course I do!” Draco said, looking affronted. “I trust you. I just have a few things I’d like to say to her too.”

“Like what?”

Draco was spared having to answer by the approach his handsome eagle owl, Pegasus, who had a scroll attached to his leg. Pegasus landed on Draco’s shoulder and waited patiently while the letter was taken. Draco stroked him and thanked him.

“Go get some rest,” he said softly. Pegasus hooted softly and flew off.

“I really love that owl,” Luna said, watching it fly away. Ron scowled.

“I thought you liked Pig!”

“I do, he’s very cute,” she said calmly, looking at him without blinking, something Draco found personally impossible to do in weather this cold and windy. “I like Pegasus too.”

Draco opened the letter and read as they approached the castle, grateful to be leaving Pansy and her snickering gang behind. His mood soon changed, however, as he read the letter. A scowl came to his face.

“Draco?” Ginny asked, watching him shrewdly, “Bad news?”

“My great uncle Glaucus passed away,” Draco said. He was surprised at how intensely he was affected by this news. He’d been raised to hate his great uncle, but he hadn’t thought anything of him, good or bad, in years. So why was he feeling such a sharp stab of loss?

Ron, Harry, and the girls gave their condolences and Ginny asked him if he wanted her to bring him lunch in bed. Ron scowled.

“I meant he goes to bed and I bring it up to him,” Ginny explained, rolling her eyes. “I wasn’t talking about getting in bed with him, Ron.”

“At least not in the middle of the day,” Hermione said under her breath, so that Ron couldn’t hear. Ginny winked at her, but her gaze quickly returned to Draco, who was tucking the letter into the inside pocket of his cloak.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Draco said, suddenly wanting to be alone.

~~~~~

Draco lay on his back, staring at the ceiling above his four-poster in the room he shared with Ron and Harry, lost in thought. The lunch Ginny had brought him sat untouched beside the bed, having long since gone cold. He longed for her now, but at the same time he was happy to be alone.

Glaucus…dead. Why was it bothering him so much?

“I’m sorry to bother you,” said an aged voice from the entrance to the dorm. Draco looked up to see Dumbledore staring at him.

“Professor,” Draco said in surprise, getting to his feet, but Dumbledore waved him back down. He pulled his wand, conjured a chair, and sat down, studying Draco.

“I thought you might like to talk,” Dumbledore said. “I knew Glaucus Malfoy. He was a good man.”

Draco shook his head. “Yeah…. I was raised to hate him, you know.”

“I would expect no less from your parents,” Dumbledore said. Coming from anyone else that would have sounded like an insult. From Dumbledore, it merely sounded like a statement of fact. It was true, however. His parents had held Glaucus in contempt for as long as Draco could remember.

“What do you know of him?” Dumbledore asked.

“Only that he was in Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin, and he was disowned for marrying a Muggle. He didn’t share the Malfoy family values.”

“This is true. He was seventeen when he left Hogwarts and met a Muggle woman in London. She was the sister of a witch and knew of the magical world. Her name was Clarissa, a delightful young woman. I remember her well.”

“What happened to her?”

“After Glaucus and Clarissa married he was disowned, but he had purchased a humble little cottage in Hogsmeade. She and Glaucus lived there for three years before they expected their first child. Unfortunately she and the baby, a girl, died in childbirth. The Malfoy family was willing to forgive his so-called indiscretion and welcome him back into the fold as long as he made a pure-blood marriage but he refused. He said he was happy with his business and his life as it was.”

“What did he do?”

“He supplied wand-wood for wand makers around the world,” Dumbledore said. “He built the business from the ground up on his own since leaving the Malfoy family meant leaving behind his inheritance. He was a member of the first Order of the Phoenix, you know?”

“No, I didn’t,” Draco said, listening closely to every word Dumbledore said.

“Oh yes…yes he did a great deal of good for us at a risk to his own personal safety. He held strong to his convictions.”

“He must have been so lonely,” Draco said sadly. Dumbledore surprised him with a chuckle.

“Are you lonely?”

“Well, no,” Draco said, frowning. “I have friends, and Ginny.”

“Glaucus was very popular in our circle, Draco,” Dumbledore said. “He may have been a Malfoy outcast, but he lived a very rich, full life. He was happy indeed, especially when he learned of your conversion.”

Draco frowned, bewildered. “I didn’t even think of him! Why?”

“You’re young, Draco,” Dumbledore said, “and youth forgives many a folly. He understood that you were struggling to find yourself. He’d planned to get to know you before he passed away.”

“How did he…”

“His time simply came. I assure you he died of natural causes, peacefully, in his sleep.”

Draco sighed. That was something, at least. He’d had images in his mind of Death Eaters accosting a helpless old man in his house, or else him suffering some terrible illness, dying alone and unloved in a cold, drab cottage. But now he knew that none of that had happened. His great uncle had not only been a decent man, he’d been happy. He didn’t know why he’d assumed that to be disowned from the Malfoy clan had to equal a lifetime of miserable solitude.

Because that’s the life you lead, said a small voice in the back of his head, making him frown.

That’s not true, Draco thought forcefully. I have Ginny and the others.

But they’re not enough, are they? Something else is missing. Something deep inside…

“Draco?” Dumbledore said.

Draco’s head snapped up. “Yes, Professor?”

Dumbledore held up a single golden key. “I have been left in charge of handling Glaucus’ estate. And here it is.”

“A key?” Draco thought, taking it sadly.

“You are his sole beneficiary. The cottage, and everything you find inside, now belongs to you.”

Dumbledore stood and stretched, and then Vanished the chair he’d Conjured. He strode to the door and turned back to Draco. “You will be allowed to visit the cottage as often as you like over the Christmas holiday. Filch has an envelope with the address to the cottage and will give it to you when you sign out to visit the village.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

Dumbledore nodded and left. Draco lay back down, feeling more miserable than ever.

~~~~~

Draco’s dreams were tortured that night. He dreamed he’d woken up in the castle alone. Everywhere he went, everywhere he Flooed to, or soared to on his broomstick, was empty. Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, London. Everywhere.

He sat up, seeing the sky was pitch black. The clock read 5:45am. He got up, took a long, hot shower, and then went down to breakfast where a few early risers were eating quietly. He took a seat at the Gryffindor table and wolfed down eggs, bacon, toast, and juice, glad to eat since he’d missed lunch and dinner.

The key was in his pocket, feeling heavy. Would he go that day? Or would he wait until Ginny and the others were gone to the Burrow?

“Love?”

He looked up at Ginny, and some of the misery that had settled over him lifted. Her face was enough to comfort him no matter how bad things got. He was suddenly grateful to see her, but at the same time something nagged at the back of his mind.

Not enough…What’s missing?

“Good morning darling,” Draco said, kissing her. “All packed for Christmas?”

“Yes,” she said, looking depressed. It was the first time they would be separated since they’d become a couple. Draco missed her already, even though he was sitting right next to her. “We’ll be leaving in two hours.”

He opted to tell her about the cottage in Hogsmeade. Ginny perked up a small measure. “That sounds wonderful, darling. You’ll have a home of your own to fall back on when you graduate from Hogwarts.”

“And we’ll have a new place to shag on Hogsmeade weekends,” Draco said, placing a hand on her thigh. Ginny giggled and began spooning breakfast onto her plate, just as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Luna, who took a seat at their table, joined them. He told them of his holiday plans, of how he was going to go straight to the cottage upon leaving the train station from seeing her and the others off. He planned to do whatever cleaning and packing of Glaucus’ old things needed and storing some of his extraneous belongings in the cottage.

“I’m sure Dobby wouldn’t mind helping you,” Hermione said, sipping orange juice.

“I can probably manage on my own. You know, I’m surprised to hear you offer a house-elf for service,” Draco said, eyebrows raised.

“Me too,” said Harry, eyeing her.

“As a favor for a friend, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Hermione said, shrugging. “I’d help you if we’d known about the place in time.”

The others murmured in agreement. Once they had eaten there was just enough time to check out with Filch, grab their trunks, and head for the station.

“Professor Dumbledore says you have something for me?” Draco said to Filch, who scowled at him before pulling a yellowed envelope out of his coat pocket and handing it to Draco.

“Next!”

Draco hurried out of the way, looped Ginny’s arm in his, and opened the letter. It had a simple address scrawled in the center of the page in Dumbledore’s austere script, and below that the words, you are now Secret Keeper for the location of this dwelling. He frowned. Why had Glaucus needed a secret keeper? Had his family threatened him? Was that standard policy for all Order members? Was he putting himself in danger-

Stop being selfish, he told himself, cutting that last thought short. There are things in this world more important than you.

He looked down at Ginny, who was rosy cheeked and solemn, as she listened to Luna chat about her father’s new lady friend. She seemed rather excited to meet her, which Draco supposed was a good thing; otherwise Luna would have been in for a miserable holiday.

They reached the station and Draco straightened Ginny’s cloak unnecessarily. He suddenly didn’t want to let her go, because he’d be even lonelier than what he already felt he was. Once again that nagging feeling came to the back of his mind.

“I love you, Ginny.”

“I love you too, Draco.”

He kissed her deeply, earnestly, until Ron cleared his throat.

“Shouldn’t you be kissing your girlfriend Weasel, instead of watching me kiss mine?” Draco said, his lips curling into a grin against Ginny’s.

“I did kiss Luna!”

“Not like that, you didn’t,” Luna said, her light, airy voice replaced with one of annoyance.

Draco dared a glance up. Harry and Hermione were glued together at the lips. “Why are you two kissing?” Draco asked, laughter in his voice. “You’re going to be together at the Burrow.”

They didn’t bother to break apart to answer; instead, Harry waved him away, turned Hermione away from him, and continued heartily kissing Hermione.

“I’ll give you a better kiss on the train,” Ron said quietly.

Ginny was looking at Draco. “I can’t leave you.”

“It’s only for two weeks. We’ll be together soon.”

“It’ll feel like two years,” Ginny groused.

“All aboard!” the conductor called. Harry and Hermione finally broke apart and, not seeming to be aware of anyone else, grabbed their trunks and started for the train. Ron put an arm around Luna but she slipped away from him, grabbed her trunk and passed Harry and Hermione.

“Don’t let them part angry,” Draco said. “I’d kill for a few more hours with you on the train.”

“I’ll set them straight. Don’t worry. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Another quick kiss and Ginny was soon swallowed up in the line of students boarding the train, soon after that the train was gone, and Draco was left alone on the platform. He heaved a sigh, turned, and started for Hogsmeade.

~~~~~

The cabin was indeed a small one…by Malfoy standards at any rate. It was a one-story structure but sizable, offering one large master bedroom and two cozier bedrooms, two full bathrooms, a large kitchen, a sizable main dwelling area with a large hearth and a small dining area off from the kitchen. White sheets hung over all the furnishings, and when Draco peeked under them he found the furniture to be in good repair. He was definitely surprised.

Oil paintings, all signed by Glaucus himself, hung on the walls, and they were all still and silent, Muggle-type paintings. There was even a portrait of Dumbledore in the hall leading to the bedrooms and main bath. But the most beautiful painting was in the living room, roughly three feet in length, two feet in height. It showed a beautiful woman with flowing auburn hair and startlingly green eyes. Her face was somewhat narrow and delicate looking, and there was so much warmth in her gaze that Draco felt she was smiling at him. The painting didn’t move or speak, and Draco was grateful for that. He found he rather liked paintings that he could just gaze upon without having to interact with. A small plaque at the bottom of the painting identified her as Clarissa Malfoy, born July 2, 1924 and a death date of May third, 1945.

A Muggle with the Malfoy name…Draco thought. How incredible. And she died so young.

Looking at the woman’s glowing auburn hair and kind, loving eyes reminded him too much of Ginny, so he turned away from the expertly crafted portrait and began to Vanish the sheets that covered the furniture. He spent the rest of the day placing scouring charms on the rooms, clearing away dust that had gathered and by the time the sun began to set he was amazed at how good and livable the place looked. He couldn’t wait to show his friends.

Funny, he thought, I hadn’t even missed them. Well, except for Ginny.

Belly growling with hunger, Draco started back for the castle when he passed a small box on the kitchen counter. He hadn’t noticed it the entire time he’d been there. He crossed over to it, tried to open it, but no unlocking charm he knew would do the trick. Mystified, he picked it up and carried it with him back to the castle.

~~~~~

Draco set the deserts he’d nicked from the Great Hall on his bedside table and sat with the box before him. “Alohomora!” he said in frustration, waving his wand at it and knowing it wouldn’t work. Nothing. He tried a few more charms, all of them very advanced and not even taught at Hogwarts, still nothing. Frustrated, he picked the box up, prepared to prize it open by sheer brute strength of will and found it clicked open easily under his fingers. Draco laughed aloud in the empty room.

“How very clever, Uncle Glaucus,” Draco said. “Leave it to a wizard to try and force the issue with magic instead of doing things the simple way.”

The Muggle way, he thought silently.

The box contained a single gold key, a piece of parchment, and a scroll. Draco pulled the parchment out first. It bore the Gringotts seal and had a vault number on it. After memorizing that, he slipped the key into his bedside table, and then opened the scroll. He was very surprised indeed to find that the scroll was a letter to him, written in small, neat script.

Draco,

I realize how strange it must be to you to find a letter from a man you have undoubtedly been reared to despise, but as soon as I learned of your estrangement from your family, and the reasons why you left, I sat down to write this. I hope that one day we will have the opportunity to get to know one another, but in case we don’t, I wanted to leave a message with you.

You face a long hard journey. It isn’t easy to leave behind all you know for the sake of love and the greater good instead of personal gain, not when all you’ve ever been taught is greed and anger, but you’re trying, and I have to commend you on your efforts. I know what you’re feeling right now because I’ve been there. I’ve suffered it.

Suffered…Oh yes, you’re suffering. You know right from wrong, you know in your head that you’re doing right, but your heart aches. Despite how many people surround you, you feel alone. Despite the tender touches and kisses of the woman you love, you wonder, is she enough? When you have an empty bank vault and your future seems to be filled with nothing but hard work and sacrifice, you feel angry, scared, and uncertain. You’ve been pampered your entire life, and now you’ll have to work, really work, to establish yourself as your own man.

You’re undoubtedly asking yourself, ‘What kind of man am I? All I know is what my parents have taught me.’ I know Lucius and Narcissa. They’re lost in the Dark, and they have tried to keep you anchored there with them, but you have seen the Light, Draco. Right now the world is gray and nothing looks the way it should. You hesitate to act or make promises because you still think, at the back of your mind, what good will it do me? What will I get out of it?

That seems like only a Malfoy trait but it is not. It took me years to learn that everyone thinks that way to a certain extent, but the thing that separates the Malfoys (and people like them), from the good people of the world is that while they may ask themselves that question they do what is right, as opposed to what is easy, or good for their personal gain.

You miss your family, Draco. You miss them, and you will never stop. You will never stop wishing they could change as you have, and you will never stop loving them. There is no shame in those feelings because not only are they natural, they’re good. Loving your family, regardless of how vile and despicable they may be, only serves to prove that you’re a good man. Just don’t allow that love to lead you into doing wrong in order to gain their approval.

I do hope that I can say these things to you face to face, but if I cannot, I will have at least said them in this letter. I hope that the hatred for me they have drilled into you will not cause you to toss aside what I have said. I hope you can listen to me, Draco, and remember that feelings in and of themselves are never good or bad, it is what you do with those feelings that matter.

I know the Weasley family, they’re good people. You couldn’t have asked for a better family to fall in with. They’re honorable, and descent, and this old man can live and die with a smile in his heart that you have the love and friendship of such noble people.

It will take many years for the Malfoy arrogance to fade completely, but it will. When it does, you will look up and know, in your heart and your mind, what I and everyone else know: you’re a good man, Draco. You’re worthy of love, and you always will be as long as you do what is right as opposed to what is easy.

I don’t know what this means to you, but my heart swells with pride and happiness for you. I’ve longed for the day when another Malfoy would find a better way of life, become more than just the name, to become a good man or woman, and I have lived to see that happen with you. You make the Malfoy name something to be proud of. Thank you.

With love, your uncle,
Glaucus Malfoy.

“It means a great deal to me,” Draco said. He was surprised when he felt a tear slip down his face. He’d been taught to hate a good man. Now he found he loved him, and he’d never even met him.

Feeling drained, Draco placed the letter back into the box, put it in the bedside drawer, and locked the dormitory door. After a few moments he was sound asleep.

~~~~~

Pegasus’ insistent tapping at the window pulled Draco from sleep. It was Christmas Eve, and he was missing Ginny and his friends more than ever. Thanks to Glaucus’ letter, which he’d read so many times that he’d lost count, he no longer felt the same nagging doubts at the back of his mind. He felt alone at times because he missed his parents, he longed for their love and approval, which was natural. Glaucus had felt the same way. There was nothing wrong with that, but in time he would learn to deal with it, and the pain would lessen.

And Glaucus had been right. The Weasley’s were noble. They were honorable and good, and he was fortunate to have them as friends. He saw that now in a way he couldn’t have realized before reading the letter from his uncle.

Draco opened the window, took the letter, and sent Pegasus flying again. He was shocked to find a letter from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, asking him if he would like to stay at the Burrow for the remainder of the Christmas holiday.

He’d known that Ginny’s family didn’t trust him, had even become estranged from Ginny for a short period of time, so what had brought on the sudden change of heart?

“Who cares, you great git!” Draco said to himself. “You can be with Ginny on Christmas!”

He quickly packed his trunk and went to see Dumbledore as instructed in the letter. He was almost out of the room when he remembered the key to the Gringotts vault in his bedside drawer. He was broke, but perhaps his uncle had left enough gold to buy Ginny a modest Christmas gift.

“Ah,” Dumbledore said, smiling at him as Draco approached his office. He was speaking with Professor McGonagall. “I see you received the invitation from the Weasleys?”

“I did,” Draco said, smiling and bowing his head respectfully to McGonagall. “Professor, did Ginny speak to you about being harassed by Pansy Parkinson?”

“She did,” McGonagall said. “I’ve scheduled a meeting with Miss Parkinson, Professor Snape, Ginny, and you when we return from the Christmas break.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome, Mr. Malfoy,” she said.

Draco held up the key. “Professor, would it be possible for me to check out something that my uncle left for me at Gringotts?”

“Certainly,” Dumbledore said. He looked at McGonagall. “Professor McGonagall, would you be as kind as to Floo Mr. Malfoy’s trunk to the Weasley’s? He and I need to make a short stop at Gringotts. I have some business there myself.”

“Of course,” McGonagall said. She gave him a look that he took to be an almost-smile and levitated his trunk ahead of her, disappearing down the hall.

“To my office then,” Dumbledore said.

~~~~~

Draco wasn’t expecting a great deal as he and Dumbledore rode the cart down the tunnels to the vaults. They pulled up in front of vault 712, and Dumbledore gave a small grunt.

“What?”

“Sirius Black’s vault,” Dumbledore said, nodding at the vault to the right of Draco’s, vault number 711.

“Really?” Draco said. He felt uncomfortable talking about Sirius, considering his father had been fighting for Voldemort the night Harry’s godfather had died at his aunt’s hand.

“Well, it belongs to Harry now,” Dumbledore said.

“Your key,” the goblin who’d escorted him said. He’d already placed a key on one lock of the vault. He took Draco’s and turned it.

The locks clicked and whirled and after a few moments the door clunked open. Draco took out a small purse, looking to clean the contents out of the vault and close it down, but when the door swung open his jaw dropped. It was a double sized vault inside, and every inch was packed with neat piles of gold Galleons. Nothing else, just Galleons. Dumbledore gave a hearty chuckle and slapped him on the back.

“Glaucus, you old miser!” Dumbledore said happily. “He used to grouse about the price of butterbeer. I always assumed he was strapped for money, but he was just being frugal.”

“H-h-how much is in there?” Draco said weakly.

The goblin consulted a ledger and said “One million, eight hundred thousand, two hundred ninety one Galleons.”

Draco felt his chest constrict. He didn’t know what to think or feel, for he was in shock. That was almost twice what his father was worth. He was wealthy again. He looked down at the purse and at the gold and grinned, thinking of what Ginny would say if she were here. He turned to Dumbledore.

“Can you believe it? I’m rich again…and I don’t even care. Maybe I’m in shock but it’s just…gold…just gold without Ginny.”

Dumbledore winked at him. “Why don’t you withdraw enough to buy the Weasley’s something nice for Christmas?”

“Yeah,” Draco said. “Yeah, I will.”

~~~~~

Draco’s belly felt as if it were infested with bats instead of butterflies as he emerged from the fireplace at the Weasleys, his arms loaded with gifts. He had to drop everything as Ginny threw herself on him in a hug that nearly knocked him back into the fireplace. She lavished kisses on him, making him laugh.

Now he was happy.

“I’ve missed you so much!” Ginny squealed.

“I’ve missed you too.”

“Perhaps if you let the boy get in a good breath,” Mr. Weasley said, coming over to him and offering his hand, “Mr. Malfoy. Welcome to the Burrow.”

“So formal, Dad!” Ginny said.

“Please, sir,” Draco said, shaking his hand. “Why don’t you call me Draco, and I’ll call you Mr. Weasley?”

Arthur grinned and nodded. “Very good, then.”

“What are all these?” Ginny said, still holding on to Draco.

“Presents,” Draco said, “for the family.”

“Where did you get gold for them?”

“Ah, that’s a story to tell.”

“Well, you can tell us at dinner,” Ron said, his belly grumbling loudly. “I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving, Ron,” Hermione said, giving Draco a quick hug.

“And you’re never hungry,” Ron said. “It shows, you’re all skinny.”

Hermione looked highly affronted, turned, and punched Ron on the arm.

“Ow!”

“I am not skinny!” Hermione said. “How dare you! I’m thin, there’s a difference.”

“Only about five pounds in your case," he said, rubbing his arm where she’d hit him.

“Don’t hurt Ron’s arms darling,” Harry said to Hermione, sitting at the table, “we need him for Quidditch, remember?” Mrs. Weasley was bustling about in the kitchen. She came up short when Draco entered. She plastered a smile to her face and handed a bowl of roasted potatoes to her husband, who set it on the table.

“Anything I can do to help?” Draco asked.

“No, no,” said Mrs. Weasley. “You’re a guest; this is your first night here. You relax at the table.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Draco said, taking a seat beside Ginny.

“We’re happy to have you,” Arthur said. “Isn’t that right, Molly?”

“Certainly,” she said, her voice sounding a little too cheery. Ginny scowled at her just as three loud cracks sounded in the kitchen. Fred, George, and Bill Weasley had Apparated by the door.

“Wow, look at that,” Fred said, looking at his brother Bill. “We almost Apparated into one another.”

“That would have been ugly,” said George. The smile slid off his face, however, as he found Draco sitting at the table.

“What’s he doing here?” Fred said, rather rudely.

“Fred!” Mrs. Weasley said, “mind your manners! Draco is a guest in our home.”

“Sure you don’t mind slumming it with us Weasels?” George said angrily.

“The place smell okay to you?” Fred asked menacingly, crossing his arms. “I mean, the last time I saw you, you were saying it smelled-”

“Stop!” Hermione said, and stood up. Draco was grateful for the interruption. He didn’t want Mrs. Weasley to know the awful things he’d said about her and her home, before he’d gotten the chance to get to know her, before he’d changed.

“Maybe,” Draco said, standing, “I’d best return to Hogwarts. This is Christmas holiday and their home, not mine. They should be able to enjoy it.”

“If you leave, I leave,” Ginny said, standing and looking resolute.

“Me too,” Hermione said. Fred and George looked ready to let out another cutting remark until Ron stood.

“Me as well,” Ron said.

“And me,” Harry added.

“You four must be raving!” Fred said. “You’re going to choose that prat over us?”

“I’ve changed,” Draco said. He felt warmed by Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Hermione’s gesture, but he didn’t want to cause a rift in the family. “If you give me a chance, I can prove it.” He looked Mrs. Weasley in the eye. “I can.”

“You can’t be trusted,” George said.

“Dumbledore says he can,” Bill said, coming over to the table with a hand outstretched. “I trust Dumbledore. I can’t speak for the prats here, but welcome. I’m Bill, Mr. Malfoy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Please, call me Draco.”

“Only if you call me Bill.”

“Oh, Merlin,” said George, disgusted, “I might be ill.”

“Hush, you two, and sit down,” Mrs. Weasley said. “No one is leaving. We’re all going to enjoy dinner together. Welcome, Draco,” Mrs. Weasley said, and this time she sounded as if she genuinely meant it.

Everyone took their seats, and finally Fred and George sat down on the same side of the table as Draco so they couldn’t glare at him through dinner without craning their necks to do it. They ate in silence, Draco had never felt so unwelcome or uncomfortable, at someone’s house before. He felt like an intruder.

“So,” Fred finally said, half-way through the meal, “I hear you’re broke.”

George snorted into his gravy, sending flecks of it onto his mother’s face. She scowled at him. “Fred, George-”

“It’s funny you should mention that,” Draco said, and he launched into the story of how he and Dumbledore had gone to see what was in his uncle’s vault and what they’d found. By the time he was done, everyone was staring at him in open disbelief.

“You’re worth 1.8 million Galleons?” Ron finally said. “Wow…”

“That’s more than your own father,” Ginny said. She, unlike the others, was privy to private information about the Malfoy family that wasn’t really relevant to the Order of the Phoenix.

“I know.”

“That explains where you got the gold to buy all those gifts,” Hermione said.

“I always thought old Glaucus was poor,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Living in that small cottage, complaining about the price of everything…”

“Did you know him very well?” Draco asked her. Mrs. Weasley shrugged. “I knew him well enough. Why?”

“I didn’t get to know him at all. I’d love to hear about him. Do you have any pictures?”

“Shouldn’t you be plotting how to take over the world with your new fortune?” George asked.

“George, one more word from you or Fred and you will leave this table,” Arthur said, and he looked so angry that George and Fred looked down, glaring silently at their plates.

“I have a few stories I can tell you about Glaucus,” Molly said. “Arthur knew him better, though. He’s the one to talk to.”

“The stories about Glaucus that I have to tell will have to be heavily censored,” Arthur said, some of the anger on his face fading as he thought of the old man, replaced with fondness. “I will say this, Draco, there’s not a better man than Glaucus Malfoy to look up to. He cared about people. Truly cared.”

They finished dinner and once everything was packed away Fred and George said their good-bye’s, rather coolly, and Disapparated.

“I’m really sorry for their behavior,” Ginny said. “They were horrible!”

“I’ve never given them a reason to like me, Ginny,” Draco said. “I don’t blame them.”

“They could have tried harder,” she insisted. “So, what did you get me for Christmas?”

“I’m not telling!” Draco said. “You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

Suddenly her face fell. “I-I don’t have anything for you. I couldn’t save up-”

“Do you love me?” he asked, cutting over her.

“With all my heart, you know I do.”

“Then that’s all I need for Christmas. That’s all I need for anything.”

They heard a sniffle and looked up to see Hermione and Mrs. Weasley holding on to one another, watching their tender exchange. Mrs. Weasley was crying, Hermione looked next to tears, Harry looked embarrassed, Ron looked revolted, and Mr. Weasley looked contemplative.

“I’m going to put a Noise Charm on Ginny’s bedroom,” Arthur said, heading upstairs. “You step foot across it young man and everyone in the house will know.”

“Oh, Arthur!” Mrs. Weasley said, drying her eyes and going over to him as he held out an arm to her. “Good-night everyone. Get to bed before midnight.”

Ron grabbed his cloak. “I’m going over to Luna’s. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“We’re going to the attic,” Hermione said, taking Harry by the hand. “It’s cozy up there, even with the ghoul.”

Finally, they were alone. Ginny led Draco to the living room where the fire crackled merrily. They sank onto the couch and Draco pulled Ginny to him in a bruising kiss. He’d missed holding her, tasting her, feeling her body against his. She pushed him down into the cushions, kissing him with all she had, small whimpers of need escaped her as she worked her legs around him and ground her hips against his.

“Whoa,” Draco said, stopping her from undoing his pants. “We can’t, your parents could catch us.”

“But…we haven’t made love in so long,” Ginny said, pouting slightly. “Please Draco, I need you.”

“Your parents are just now starting to trust me. That means a lot to me.”

She looked into his gray eyes. He could tell she was battling with herself to satisfy her needs or to wait when it was appropriate. Finally she sighed and sat up. Her hair was mussed, her lips were wet, and her chest rose and fell quickly as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Okay.”

“Wait!” Draco said, feeling the key to the cottage press into his side. He’d completely forgotten that he had a home waiting for him in Hogsmeade.

Draco pulled Ginny up from the couch and over to the fire. It wasn’t fair to either of them that their needs should go unmet while everyone else was able to satisfy their desires.

He tossed a pinch of Floo powder into the hearth and winked at her as he urged her in. “Say 24 High Avenue, Hogsmeade.”

Ginny grinned and repeated the address to the cabin. She was gone in seconds, and he quickly followed after her.

~~~~~

Christmas morning dawned bright and frigid. Ginny and Draco had returned around midnight, as promised, and slept in separate rooms, their bodies tired from the passion they’d shared at the cabin. He had dreampt of the day when he could take Ginny back to that cabin as his wife. When they awoke the next morning, they all trooped downstairs to the Christmas tree where Arthur and Molly were sitting, bleary eyed and tired, sipping coffee.

“Good morning, you lot,” Molly said, yawning. “Let’s get these presents open, then we’ll have some breakfast.”

Draco was pleased when he opened a package from Mrs. Weasley, which contained a sweater with a large D on the front. Ron clapped him on the back.

“Your first Weasley sweater. You’re truly one of us now.”

“I love it,” Draco said, slipping it on. It was comfortable and warm. He fleetingly wished his mother would have done something like this for him growing up, but he quickly stomped on that thought. He passed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley an envelope.

“Oh, my!” Mr. Weasley said, opening the envelope. “Draco, really! We can’t accept this.”

“Like hell,” Molly said. “A weekend for two in Paris? Look, a spa, massages, finest foods…All paid? Thank you Draco. That was very kind of you.”

Hermione gasped, holding up another envelope.

“What?” Harry asked.

“A complete set of first century spell books on defensive magic! These are...oh my…” Hermione looked ready to faint.

Harry held up the box Draco had given him, but before he could open it Ron let out a yell. “A Firebolt!” he said, looking at Draco in disbelief. “Draco, I might have to kiss you.”

“Please don’t,” Draco said.

“I’m taking it out,” Ron said, getting up and rushing for the stairs to get dressed.

“In this cold?” Ginny asked, watching him go.

“Yeah!”

Harry tore open the wrapping and found a box with a full set of custom Quidditch balls inside, all of which bore his initials in gold lettering, except for the Snitch, which had his initials in maroon lettering. There was also broom maintenance equipment to freshen up the broomstick servicing kit he’d gotten three years before from Hermione.

“You really know how to give cool gifts,” Harry said, smiling. “Thank you Draco.”

“You’re quite welcome.” Draco watched Harry take his gift and rush up the stairs to dress and go flying with Ron.

“Our gifts aren’t nearly as expensive,” Hermione said, eyeing the card she’d made for Draco in embarrassment.

“Your gifts come from the heart,” he said. “That means more to me than gold. Just because I’ve got money again, don’t think I’m going to go back to my old ways. I’m not.”

“Now, for your gift,” Draco said, handing Ginny an oblong box.

Ginny took the box and opened it. Inside was a gold bracelet she’d been eyeing for months at a jewelry shop in Hogsmeade. It was the most expensive one there, and she’d made the comment she’d never be able to afford it. She threw her arms around him.

“Oh, Draco! This is the bracelet I’ve had my eye on for months!”

“I’m going to make breakfast,” Molly said.

“I’ll help.”

They left Ginny and Draco alone to snog. “I wish I had something to give you.”

“You do,” Draco said.

“My heart, I know, but I mean something that you can hold.”

He cupped her left breast. “Well…you could promise you’ll never withhold.”

“Deal,” she said, laughing.

He could feel desire stirring in his groin and quickly took his hand off her breast. “Money,” he said, “is not as important to me as it used to be. I finally understand, Ginny, that there are things in life that are more important than gold. You, love, family…Those are the things that matter. Promise me your love and I could lose the gold today and I’d be fine.”

“I love you,” Ginny said. “I’ll always love you. I promise.”

Draco wrapped Ginny in a tight embrace, taking in the scent of her, the sight of the humble house of his adopted family, and for the first time since he’d been disowned by his own parents he felt like he’d finally found a place to belong. He felt comfortable in his own skin, and that, Draco realized, was worth more than all the gold in the world.