(no subject)
Title: On Wards and Waiting
Drawn and drabbled by: amariel
Characters: Draco, Narcissa, Lucius
Rating: G
Warnings: Christmas fluff
Note: Malfoy Manor, early morning December 25th, 1985. Draco is waiting by the Christmas tree. Thanks to pingviini¨ for the speedy beta and artsyandfartsy for drawing concrit and help. Ficlet below the picture.
Of wards and waiting
It’s was still completely dark outside. Draco had been waiting beside the Christmas tree for hours. The house-elves kept coming and offering him hot chocolate, which he accepted, and breakfast, which he declined. They lit the candles in the tree when he asked and after a while some of the tiny tree fairies woke up and started fluttering around. Their little giggly sounds made Draco laugh. But he hadn’t got out of bed and dressed himself this early just to see the tree or even the fairies. What he really wanted was to look at the parcels under the tree and try to imagine what was inside each of them.
For a long while the pictures on the wrapping paper kept him occupied. On it stars were twinkling, fairies, owls and dragons flying around; small Santas were laughing and pointing at him and on one parcel tiny rabbits frolicked in the snow.
Draco knew better than to try and touch them. When your mother knows some pretty strong curses it’s not advisable. Draco didn’t want to spend another Christmas with bunny ears instead of his normal ones.
Last year his mother at least removed the bunny ears before New Years, which was good, since several of his friends had been coming to the Malfoy’s party with their parents. It would have been completely embarrassing to meet them looking like a giant prat.
Who knows what wards his mother had come up with this year? Or worse, if his father had a hand in the warding one little touch might cause Draco to spend this Christmas as a giant slug, oozing all over the Manor. Draco shuddered.
Suddenly the fireplace lit up. The room started to get warmer and he heard footsteps and voices approaching. Draco straightened his back. On the small table between his father’s and mother’s chairs a starched table cloth, a tea set and a covered basket appeared without even a tingling sound. The nice smell of freshly baked cinnamon buns made his mouth water and his stomach rumble. He stood up when his parents entered the room.
“So here you are, Draco,” his mother said. “You weren’t in your room, so I got worried.”
“I told you he was in here,” said his father. “Draco, did you manage to break the wards this year?”
“Lucius!” his mother said. “If you want to improve his abilities, at least don’t encourage bad behaviour. It’s enough that he got a training wand two years too early, don’t you think?”
Draco’s father didn’t answer. Instead he walked up to Draco and carefully inspected his son from head to toe. He shook his head.
“You really kept your curiosity in check this year,” he said, frowning. “Pity. I guess you are too young yet. Why, I was younger than you when I…”
“Lucius,” his mother interrupted with an innocent smile, “were you going to tell him when you managed to give yourself an elephant’s trunk and had to spend all Christmas at St. Mungo’s getting it fixed?”
“Hrmf,” snorted his father, and suddenly became very interested in filling his teacup.
Draco would be very interested in hearing that story, but he wouldn’t ask about it when his father was around.
When his mother reached for the first parcel, a cloud of roses exploded in the air and petals swirled all around her.
She jumped back with a shriek. Then she started to laugh.
A teacup crashed on the floor.
His father snapped his fingers. The shards and the spilled tea disappeared and a new cup appeared in his hand. He stared at his son.
“Draco,” he said. “Did you do that?”
Draco nodded, and looked at his shoes, suddenly embarrassed.
“I couldn’t break the wards, but I added this spell to one of the presents.”
“Where did you learn that spell? Narcissa, did you…” His mother shook her head.
“The gardener’s son told me,” said Draco.
His parents stared at him for the longest time. At first he thought they were mad, but they didn’t look angry at all.
Next year, Draco thought, next year I’ll be six. I will be able to read books by myself. I will learn some really good spells until then, just see if I don’t!
“Well done.” His father smiled proudly at him.
“Now it’s time to open the presents, don’t you think?” said his mother.
Draco gasped. He had almost forgotten the most important thing - what would he get for Christmas? He went through his wish list for the hundredth time. Probably not a hippogriff or a unicorn; but maybe, just maybe, a real broomstick.
Drawn and drabbled by: amariel
Characters: Draco, Narcissa, Lucius
Rating: G
Warnings: Christmas fluff
Note: Malfoy Manor, early morning December 25th, 1985. Draco is waiting by the Christmas tree. Thanks to pingviini¨ for the speedy beta and artsyandfartsy for drawing concrit and help. Ficlet below the picture.
Of wards and waiting
It’s was still completely dark outside. Draco had been waiting beside the Christmas tree for hours. The house-elves kept coming and offering him hot chocolate, which he accepted, and breakfast, which he declined. They lit the candles in the tree when he asked and after a while some of the tiny tree fairies woke up and started fluttering around. Their little giggly sounds made Draco laugh. But he hadn’t got out of bed and dressed himself this early just to see the tree or even the fairies. What he really wanted was to look at the parcels under the tree and try to imagine what was inside each of them.
For a long while the pictures on the wrapping paper kept him occupied. On it stars were twinkling, fairies, owls and dragons flying around; small Santas were laughing and pointing at him and on one parcel tiny rabbits frolicked in the snow.
Draco knew better than to try and touch them. When your mother knows some pretty strong curses it’s not advisable. Draco didn’t want to spend another Christmas with bunny ears instead of his normal ones.
Last year his mother at least removed the bunny ears before New Years, which was good, since several of his friends had been coming to the Malfoy’s party with their parents. It would have been completely embarrassing to meet them looking like a giant prat.
Who knows what wards his mother had come up with this year? Or worse, if his father had a hand in the warding one little touch might cause Draco to spend this Christmas as a giant slug, oozing all over the Manor. Draco shuddered.
Suddenly the fireplace lit up. The room started to get warmer and he heard footsteps and voices approaching. Draco straightened his back. On the small table between his father’s and mother’s chairs a starched table cloth, a tea set and a covered basket appeared without even a tingling sound. The nice smell of freshly baked cinnamon buns made his mouth water and his stomach rumble. He stood up when his parents entered the room.
“So here you are, Draco,” his mother said. “You weren’t in your room, so I got worried.”
“I told you he was in here,” said his father. “Draco, did you manage to break the wards this year?”
“Lucius!” his mother said. “If you want to improve his abilities, at least don’t encourage bad behaviour. It’s enough that he got a training wand two years too early, don’t you think?”
Draco’s father didn’t answer. Instead he walked up to Draco and carefully inspected his son from head to toe. He shook his head.
“You really kept your curiosity in check this year,” he said, frowning. “Pity. I guess you are too young yet. Why, I was younger than you when I…”
“Lucius,” his mother interrupted with an innocent smile, “were you going to tell him when you managed to give yourself an elephant’s trunk and had to spend all Christmas at St. Mungo’s getting it fixed?”
“Hrmf,” snorted his father, and suddenly became very interested in filling his teacup.
Draco would be very interested in hearing that story, but he wouldn’t ask about it when his father was around.
When his mother reached for the first parcel, a cloud of roses exploded in the air and petals swirled all around her.
She jumped back with a shriek. Then she started to laugh.
A teacup crashed on the floor.
His father snapped his fingers. The shards and the spilled tea disappeared and a new cup appeared in his hand. He stared at his son.
“Draco,” he said. “Did you do that?”
Draco nodded, and looked at his shoes, suddenly embarrassed.
“I couldn’t break the wards, but I added this spell to one of the presents.”
“Where did you learn that spell? Narcissa, did you…” His mother shook her head.
“The gardener’s son told me,” said Draco.
His parents stared at him for the longest time. At first he thought they were mad, but they didn’t look angry at all.
Next year, Draco thought, next year I’ll be six. I will be able to read books by myself. I will learn some really good spells until then, just see if I don’t!
“Well done.” His father smiled proudly at him.
“Now it’s time to open the presents, don’t you think?” said his mother.
Draco gasped. He had almost forgotten the most important thing - what would he get for Christmas? He went through his wish list for the hundredth time. Probably not a hippogriff or a unicorn; but maybe, just maybe, a real broomstick.