Christmas Eve

The inky sky, resembling a black dome descending to the ground, concealed a solitary manor beneath its cover. Icy gusts of wind lifted white snow whirlwinds and, with a deafening howl, threatened to knock down anyone standing in their way. And only the pale moon, as if peeking out from behind the clouds with curiosity, is trying to make the evening at least a little brighter. All this might have seemed exciting if he had been able to watch the unfolding storm through a carved, frost-covered window instead of struggling through the snowdrifts. The distance from the gate to the manor was not that great; at that moment it seemed endless to him. Shaking off the snow, Draco finally returned home.  He had never been so happy to come back here every day. In an instant, he was enveloped in the warm orange light of a burning fireplace. Malfoy Manor seemed to be in an evening half-sleep, protecting the drowsy silence within its walls. Carelessly throwing his coat into the first chair he came across; he ran up the stairs as fast as he could. Christmas decorations glittered on the railings, and the smell of pine needles hung in the air. Approaching the slightly open door to the children's bedroom, Draco heard the gentle singing of his wife. His lips involuntarily broke into a smile, and goosebumps ran across his skin. Oh, Merlin, he could stand like this forever and listen to this strong and clear voice, like spring water. The lullaby made him remember that wonderful time when he was a child. But suddenly, the melody died down. It was dark in the bedroom, only a candle was burning on the nightstand, casting strange shadows on the walls. Numerous toys stood in neat rows on the shelves, waiting for the morning when their little owner would wake up. At the window, in the pale light of the moon, he saw a dark silhouette. Astoria, pushing back the curtain, peered into the storm, trying to see him in the blizzard. Just a few steps, and Draco's hands lay on the fragile shoulders of his wife. Astoria shuddered and turned around.   “Draco,” Astoria whispered, hugging her husband, allowing him to feel happiness and relief. “Finally, you're back. The weather today is so terrible.”   “Darling, why aren’t you sleeping yet?” he said quietly, kissing her hot cheeks. As soon as he felt her warmth, he realized how cold he was.   She snorted, as if he had asked something so obvious that it didn't require an answer at all.   “I won't go to bed without you. As you know.” “Then let’s go, it’s too late.”   Looking into his sleeping son's crib, Draco tenderly adjusted the blanket for him.   “He’s so sweet when he sleeps, isn’t he?” Astoria said, smiling.   “Yes, our baby is very cute,” Draco couldn’t resist and kissed his wife again, burying his face in her soft hair. "He looks like you."   “Are you kidding me? It’s as if I didn’t participate in his birth at all. He’s your copy.”   “Only, perhaps, his hair and eyes are similar to mine, but the oval of his face is yours, as are his lips and eyelashes.”   “Okay, speak more quietly, Scorpius couldn’t fall asleep for a long time today.”   Leaving the children's room as quietly as possible, they headed to their bedroom.   “How was your day at the Ministry? You were so depressed this morning.” Astoria asked, sitting down on the sofa by the fireplace.   “As if there could be anything good in that place. The new Minister is a real monster...” Draco took off his annoying tie and shirt and changed into a soft robe, still complaining.   His day was tiring, his work at the Ministry always irritated him, being, in fact, only atonement for past actions and a merciless killing of time that he could spend with his family. Astoria watched him with a slight smile, laughing at his overly active gestures, especially when he hit the closet door with all his might.   “Calm down and stop breaking furniture,” Astoria laughed loudly when he wanted to hit the closet door in response.   Astoria gave Draco a feeling of trembling anticipation.   Sitting down next to her, he enthusiastically hugged his wife to his chest, inhaling the familiar smell of her French perfume and apple shampoo. He wanted nothing more than to dissolve in these embraces and feel the hands of the woman he loved hug him back. Draco never thought that his life would become normal, and he never imagined that every moment could bring happiness, and every new day could promise joy. The past years seemed like a long and terrible dream.   “I missed you a lot. Tell me everything. What did you do today? What was Scorpius doing?”   “You can’t even imagine what our little aristocrat did today!” Astoria smiled, glowing with pride and love. “He was so happy to see your mom that he tried to get up! And he almost succeeded! He shouted: “Na-na!” Of course, he is still too young to pronounce the name "Narcissa" correctly, but it would be easier for him to just call her "grandmother". Draco chuckled.   “I’ll definitely talk to her; I don’t understand why she’s embarrassed by her new status as a granny.”   “Come on, no one likes to realize their age.”   “Does it matter?”   “You will never understand this, any woman wants to be younger.”   “For what?”   “Because time is not at all conducive to preserving beauty.” She playfully rolled her eyes, looking at his bewilderment.   “For me, you will always be a beauty, even when you turn ninety.” He kissed the tip of Astoria's nose, already anticipating how she would enjoy his Christmas gift. “Tomorrow I will stay at home, the Ministry will do without me, although some of the documents will still have to be completed.”   “Why do you have to work on Christmas Eve?”   “Please, honey, I'm asking myself exactly the same question.”   “Oh, I promise you won't be bored. Scorpius and I will help you. I wouldn't be surprised if during his seven months in office he becomes interested in some ministerial reports.”   “At twenty-six years old, I’m not particularly interested in them; they certainly won’t interest him. But he can draw in my reports, no one will read them anyway.”   They sat, hugging each other, looking at the flames dancing in the fireplace, inhaling the pleasant smell of pine needles, enjoying each other's warmth and absolutely confidential silence. The house-elves brought everyone a large mug of hot chocolate with cream and cinnamon, adding some spice to the evening. He enjoyed the fact that with Astoria he could remain silent for as long as his inexhaustible blues allowed him, or he could talk as much as he needed. In this they were similar. Over the course of seven years, they both learned to hear each other without even using words. They were not just husband and wife, because that didn't even come close to describing their relationship with each other, the trust that existed between them. Marriage seemed to him an incredibly superficial concept, completely incompatible with reality. All Draco knew was that she was his identity and he was hers, there was nothing more to add. The wind howled pitifully outside the window, apparently from disappointment and the inability to get inside.   “I want it to always be like this,” Draco said unexpectedly.   Astoria gently touched his lips with her lips. “This is how it will always be, Draco. Always. Something will, of course, change over time, but the main thing will remain the same... We are a family. You are no longer alone.”   “Come to me,” pulling her towards him, he was finally able to fully enjoy the kiss.   Sitting his wife on his lap, Draco began frantically covering her thin neck with kisses.   “My love...” she muttered, running her fingers through his hair and sitting more comfortably on his lap…   Draco couldn't wait any longer. Untying the belt, he threw her silk robe onto the thick carpet and hungrily pressed his lips to the soft skin of her shoulder, slipping a finger under the strap of her nightgown. Astoria pulled the clip out of her hair and a soft, curly cascade of golden hair fell around her waist. Her eyes were closed in pleasure. He knew what she wanted, knew how much she missed him when he wasn't with her.   “Draco...” she breathed, looking into his eyes, frozen just a millimeter from his lips. “Let's go to bed.”   Easily picking up Astoria in his arms, he carried her to the bed, laying her on a soft feather bed among gold-embroidered silks. He couldn't stop admiring her. Beautiful. Perfect. All him. Her gentle fingers slid along his back and neck, pulling him closer, making any distance between them disappear, leaving only love and burning warmth.   “Forgive me,” Astoria whispered. These words were as if a bucket of cold water had been poured on him. Tearing himself away from her, he felt his heart pounding with fear.   “Why should I forgive you?”   Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were blindingly bright from tears.   “I did not want this.”   “Astoria, honey, what do you mean?” Draco squeezed her thin wrists, afraid to break the contact between them even for a second.   “I didn’t want to leave you, my darling. I love you so much...”   ***** Draco woke up with darkness before his eyes and a fading image of Astoria that would never fade from his memory. He dreamed about her again, like every time before Christmas.  An icy wind blew from the open window, and the extinguished fireplace resembled the open mouth of a monster. It seemed to him that just a second ago a hot flame was dancing in the fireplace. Draco touched his fingers to the soft velvet of the nightgown, which still carried her scent. Outside the window, a blizzard broke out again, just like that evening, only now he no longer felt the cold. He hadn't felt anything for a long time. Since Draco freed all the house-elves, Malfoy Manor has been empty. He felt better alone. Scorpius didn't want to go home for Christmas and even once mentioned in a letter that he was going to go to the Potters for the whole summer. Draco didn't even think about keeping his son in the manor. Perhaps Scorpius will find something more valuable in this life than this damp, lifeless place. Draco didn't want Scorpius to see his father slowly becoming a living dead. The silence of the bedroom was filled with the lonely ticking of an ancient clock and the plaintive, as if melancholy, howling of the wind. On the table, waiting in the wings, were several sealed envelopes that he did not bother to send to his son. Each of these letters contained a farewell and a request for forgiveness. Draco still couldn't decide which letter was better. Although, was it important? Everything has long since lost its meaning. Empty Firewhisky bottles and Muggle cigarette butts littered the carpet. The vast estate seemed to mock him, silently watching the fall of a member of the once powerful Malfoy family. It was scary to think how much these walls had seen: joy and grief, happiness and sadness of all those long-gone generations. Every detail of Malfoy Manor seemed to be saturated with loud infectious laughter and quiet sobs. Once upon a time, love reigned here, but it was just as irrevocably gone, leaving behind an indelible mark. Thousands of moments were preserved in the memory only of those who could no longer share them. Draco had a lot of time to think, understand and rethink. He knew one truth for sure: time does not heal. Life went on, and Draco tried to keep up with it. Merlin, he really tried! But every year, as Christmas approached, he finally fell into depression, drowning out his grief with selected whiskey, allowing himself to suffocate in the smoke of Muggle cigarettes. And now he realized that he was no longer afraid. Scorpius was already old enough and independent enough to live his own life. In fact, Draco couldn't even remember the last time his son had been home. But knowing that his son was okay made him very happy. Headmaster McGonagall sent him a detailed report on his son every month. He was an excellent student and captain of the Quidditch team. Scorpius was also talented in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts and was one of the most popular boys at Hogwarts. Draco was so proud of his son. Scorpius was proof of his and Astoria's love. Draco took his dress robes out of the closet, tidied up his hair, and shaved. He's so tired. Another truth of life that he understood: a person cannot live without love. Truly a great discovery for Draco Malfoy. A small vial of black liquid had been waiting for its time on the fireplace for a long time. Too simple a thing for a person who understands potions. But effectiveness was guaranteed. Once the bottle was in the pocket of his robes, Draco looked around the bedroom one last time, mentally saying goodbye. It's time. This room will also hold memories of his life too. The huge living room looked more like a cold crypt. The former luxury has long been covered with a layer of gray dust. A wave of the wand, and a frightened flame flared up in the fireplace.   The time was approaching midnight. It seemed that a little more, and he would hear the clinking of glasses, and the appetizing smell of festive dishes would give a sign that Christmas was about to come. Once upon a time, magnificent balls were held here. Echoes of long-extinct music and ephemeral images of dancing couples will also forever remain within the walls of Malfoy Manor. A place full of ghosts. Draco thought, twirling the bottle between his fingers. His gaze suddenly fell on their large family portrait, which hung proudly above the fireplace, bathed in the dim orange light. Astoria smiled happily, her eyes sparkled with life and love, she hugged him, Draco, with one hand, and put the other on the shoulder of her son, who was wearing a formal suit for the first time. Scorpius was barely five then, but he already behaved like a real aristocrat.   “Scorpi, please stand up straight, okay?” Astoria once again combed her son’s blond bangs to the right side. “Did you know that this painting has the ability to stop time?” “Stop time?” Scorpius's eyes widened and he instantly became serious. “It is suitable?” “Just smile. That's all.” “And you smile too,” Draco said to Astoria, who was intently straightening her son’s tie and wrinkling her nose cutely. “I will definitely smile when I unravel this knot.”   It was as if he looked again for a second into that day, into their happy life. Was he worthy of this happiness? Hardly. But what kept him in this world now? He did not know. Neither work nor home were serious reasons to continue living. He just couldn't survive another Christmas. Maybe somewhere out there, in another world, he will finally see his Astoria again. The only thing that bothered Draco was that he didn't say goodbye to his son. But will Scorpius want this? Probably not. In any case, Malfoy's entire fortune will go to his son. Perhaps it will be easier for Scorpius to live knowing that the Malfoy estate and residence near Marseille will be at his free disposal from tomorrow? Yes. Draco did everything right. There was no place for him in this world. Uncorking the small bottle, Draco inhaled the slightly sweet smell of the deadly potion. Touching the cold neck with his lips, he closed his eyes, trying to remember the dream he had recently. He didn't want to wake up anymore. “This is how it will always be, Draco. Always. Something will, of course, change over time, but the main thing will remain the same... We are a family. You are no longer alone.” Suddenly, pain burned in Draco's hand, and the bottle crashed onto the marble floor, spilling its contents. Scorpius' frightened light gray eyes looked at him with undisguised shock.     “No. Dad, don't do this! I beg you. Stay with me.”   How badly Draco wanted to hear those words.