My twenty-first year.

[dracolicious]

Thank Merlin we decided on a reasonably early party, or we would still be trying to rid ourselves of unwanted guests. Some of us need to get to bed at a decent hour.

Yes, you, little britches. You've been up since dawn, and Daddy needs a break. I don't know, Morsel. Maybe we can visit The Burrow tomorrow to see if Amelia is there. If

Comments

[boywholives]

[dracolicious]

This is the prettiest picture I've ever seen! It looks just like the flowers we helped Papa plant in the yard by your swings! Doesn't it, Papa?

I can see she may have had a bit of help with the original design, isn't that right?

[boywholives]

Maybe. She picked out the gift wrap, though.

[dracolicious]

She's fond of Christmas colors, clearly. Bloody Gryffindor genes tainting my innocent progeny. . . .

[boywholives]

She spent all morning working on it...

[dracolicious]

So that's what you were scrambling to charm off of my floor before people began showing up for the party, Potter.

[boywholives]

She wouldn't even get dressed until she was finished.

[dracolicious]

My knees would be absolutely ruined if I knelt on the wood for that long.

[boywholives]

No comment.

[dracolicious]

Oh, you'll have commentary eventually, old man.

[boywholives]

So would you, though I'm not sure it would be commentary so much as whimpering.

[dracolicious]

Whimpering in pain because my elderly knees have broken under the strain?

[boywholives]

Something like that.

Draco, I have an important question for you.

[dracolicious]

What.

[boywholives]

Do you promise to tell me the truth? Swear on your life?

[dracolicious]

Potentially.