December 21, 1991
The first of the snakes to arrive was Daphne, in a very French white ensemble with a royal blue beret that complimented her dark hair and pale complexion. Graceful as a gazzelle, she introduced herself to Mother and Father.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Lord and Lady Malfoy,” She held out a hand that Mother politely took.
“Oh, nonsense to the titles, little Greengrass, your mother and I do tea.”
Father gave a nod, “And your father and I do business.”
Then came Theo, in a smart vest and slacks wearing a necklace that ended in a serpent with emerald eyes.
“Lord and Lady Malfoy,” he nodded to our parents, “Thank you for having me. My father says hello.”
“Ah, yes, we can’t wait to catch up with Cantakerous at Yule,” Mother smiled.
Next came a pair, Pansy and Blaise as one. Though Pansy’s brilliant silver dress clashed with the ochre outfit Blaise wore.
“Ah yes, Miss Parkinson, we’ve heard much about you,” this time it was Father who picked up the chatter, “I’ve heard congratulations are in order to you, Mister Zabini, on your potions work.”
The final trio was Millie, Vince, and Greg, who all appeared in the reception hall at once. While the boys stumbled over each other, Millie simply knocked them out of the way with a grunt and nodded to Draco and I, “I got here before these fools. I’m not last.”
That earned her a smile from me and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders as I turned her to face Mother and Father, “May I introduce: Millicent Bulstrode.”
It was not lost on me that all of the girls were wearing the bracelets I’d gifted them. I, too, was wearing my own matching bracelet.
“Ah, little Vince and Greg!” Came Mother's pleased voice, “How wonderful to have you.”
“Go, Medea and Draco will show you around. Try to enjoy yourselves,” Father, with his droll voice, did not sound particularly enthused.
There was hum of excitement that followed the mass of snakes as they excused themselves.
-
“This place is ridiculous,” Blaise snorted, as we began making our way to the second floor, “Who needs three reception halls?”
“Oh, Zabini, it isn’t about need,” Cooed Pansy, halfway skipping, “They simply saw that they could and so they did.”
“It’s almost enough to make me consider joining hands with the Malfoys,” Daphne sighed, she had spent a quarter hour admiring the art surrounding the Twilight reception hall. At Draco’s flush, she smiled and patted his shoulder, “I didn’t say it was your hand I wanted Draco. Don’t worry.”
In the background, Pansy rolled her eyes and Theo scowled.
“Don’t be ridiculous Daph, we all know I’m destined to be a Pucey,” I mock sighed, a smile dancing across my face, “Draco might just be your only option.”
My brother whipped his head to look up at me with narrowed eyes, prompting me to wave him off, “Oh calm down. I won’t stand between you and Spektor.”
Crabbe and Goyle snickered, but Pansy gasped, “Spektor?”
“I don’t fancy Spektor!” Draco hissed, rushing to catch up to me. I skipped a step and ducked around the end of the railing.
“Oh? Didn’t you tell Mother and Father how pretty she was?”
“That was in confidence! And it’s not my fault I have eyes!”
Daphne and Millie snorted, and Pansy looked stricken, “Pretty?”
-
“This is my room,” I flicked on the lights, revealing the enchanted night sky and the remains of my fairytale sketches —still babbling amongst themselves until I caught their eyes and put a finger to my lips.
The boys had broken off to go across the hall with Draco, so it was just the girls with me. Daphne had been holding back for some time so as I climbed onto the edge of my bed I laughed, “Okay, spit it out.”
“A Pucey? Really?” She scrunched her nose and I grinned, a feral glint in my eyes.
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“No, not really, but isn’t he so pretty?”
“As pretty as Spektor?” Pansy grumbled and I caught her hand and dragged her onto the bed. Daphne settled towards the headboard and Millie stretched along the far side.
We truly were like a snake pit.
“Spektor doesn’t stand a chance,” I caught Pansy’s eyes, my voice serious, “Didn’t you know?”
“Know what?”
“Draco would never fancy someone like her.”
“Like her?” Came Millie’s voice, a harsh edge to it. Daphne was leaning forward, listening intently.
Millie thinks I mean a half-blood. Like her.
“Yeah,” I nodded, “Someone who lacks a sense of humor.”
At that, Daphne huffed and Millie groaned. But Pansy smiled, “Isn’t she such a bore? She isn’t even that pretty?”
-
“What are they?”
The snakes were in the garden, sitting on a hill, we were entwined. Legs met laps, arms wrapped around shoulders and elbows, heads met heads, snakes were the type to sap each other's warmth.
“Elemental lilies,” Draco said, grabbing a vibrant red flower and casting a quick diffindo. He presented it to Pansy as he laid back down, “Mother loves them.”
“Oh? It must be tedious to find someone to take care of all these flowers.”
Draco and I shared a look.
“Mother does it all.” I supplied. “She’s quite skilled at green charms.”
-
“Come, darling, let me show you the virtues of a garden,” Mother waved me along, through the hedges until we arrived at a pavilion of browning vines. They curled up the marble pillars, their leaves crisp and ever so lightly falling to the wind.
“The virtues of a garden?” I had asked, staring at the pavilion.
“Yes. Beauty is as beauty does. These flowers cannot be used in potions, they are inedible —but not strong enough for poison. They are simply beautiful. That is their use.”
And then she directed a symphony of growth with her wand. Around us bloomed Celestial Lilies, with their black petals and silver tears, Blue Fire Flutes, with their bell shaped flames sprouting from their bulbs, and dozens of other magical plants.
-
And here we sat, just a dozen feet off from that pavilion, an ever-warm charm radiating off the pillars intense enough that we had no need to bundle ourselves up despite the snow surrounding the edges of the clearing. Within the dome, green grass was abundant and all the flowers were immaculately groomed.
“It’s beauty for beauty’s sake,” I sighed, my shoulder pressed up against Theo’s and my legs propped up to allow Daphne to stretch underneath.
“When does everyone arrive for Yule?” Blaise said.
“The morning of the 24th everyone is coming to get settled. You’re welcome to continue staying in my room—“
“And mine,” added Draco.
“—but each of the guests has their own room for the duration of Yule.”
“How long will the rites be?” Millie said, half muffled with her arm over her face to block out the sun.
“Oh, you know, not long,” I said as Draco snickered, “The rites start at midnight.”
“Spit it out Malfoy,” She groaned.
“They end at Midnight too.”
Several low whistles resounded, and it was Daphne who spoke first, “This is why it’s such a big deal to come to the Gala. A rite like that must do wonders for the magic.”
“Father says it strengthens the family first, and the bonds between families second,” Draco gave a rueful smile, “But you have to have your own wand to participate, so we’ve been relegated to a lesser rite until now.”
“Speaking of,” Theo hesitantly looked my way, his eyes only inches from my own, “I haven’t seen you with your wand.”
Silence fell. A moment passed. Two. I blinked. Draco huffed.
“Well, tell them,” he goaded, “Tell them what the Slytherin’s Princess did.”
“Prat,” I muttered, “I have been restricted. It’s my punishment for, and I quote, ‘Forgetting how a Malfoy should present themselves.’”
“Did he really say that?” Draco wondered aloud.
I closed my eyes.
“It was Mother.”
“Oof.” Was my brother’s helpful reply.
“Well,” Daphne drug the word out, “Now you have to tell us what you did.”
“I redecorated.” I sniped.
“With bombarda,” Draco snorted and I tried to kick him from where I was laying. Alas. He was a smidge too far.
“Where did you even learn bombarda?” Came Vince’s slow, grating voice.
“Crabbe, I live in this house. And my last name literally means bad faith. Where do you think I learned bombarda?”
“Well, that wasn’t very nice, I was just asking.” I snorted at the way his face scrunched when Millie patted his back half heartedly. Half-offended and half-comforted. The rest of us laughed as well.
-
Without the castle to bind us, I had worried Yule would be a disaster. That our brief time apart would reset us to the beginning of the year. I had underestimated the snakes. They weren’t loyal in the way a knight pledges to a liege, but in the way being close makes one want to remain close.
It was soothing. Soon I knew I would need more from them, so it was also reassuring.
That was the first of many days I did not need to run.