A Blue Raven [1] // Harry Potter // Draco Malfoy

Merry Christmas

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Merry Christmas.

Walking around Diagon Ally, in the back of my mind I wanted to buy something for Christmas for a few people – nothing too big as three months isn't a long time. Spotting the pink painted store of Sugarplum's Sweet Shop, I pushed open the door and instantly hit with the smell of freshly baked pumpkin pasties and cauldron cakes. Taking the opportunity, I picked up two small gifts for Hadleigh and Padma for the last day of school - knowing I would've missed their birthdays because we never talked about it when we sat in the common room to study or when we where laughing over dinner.
As I walked around, I filled my arms with boxes of Exploding Bonbons, Shock-O-Cake and fudge flies. On my way back to the house, I passed the healers – in the window was a Vervain plant sprout. Taking the chance, I brought the sprout, repotting it in a red pot with a gold stripe.

Taking the floo back home, Drizella lifted her head from her bed next to the tumble drier. I put my finger to lips, tiptoeing through the house to my room on the second floor. Putting them all under my bed, I joined Neville and Gran in the living room. The Christmas Tree was decorated in with red and gold baubles with gold streamers making the tree look like it's crying.
Gran had the TV on BBC One for Top of the Pops her knitting needles clicking away in the corner. Drizella yawned as she walked in – I grabbed a rope monkey toy and smiled as we played tug of war.

The day before Christmas, we piled into the fireplace – Drizella in a Santa hat and matching harness, the yellow guitar hard case over my shoulder – the gifts for Neville, Gran and my parents in my bag.
"St. Mungo's," I shouted, and I started spinning.

Landing awkwardly, we walked through the Hospital to the fourth floor.
Dad and mum are sitting on two chairs opposite each other with a chessboard between them. They are so much better than when we were little – still clinically insane but both are trying to have a sense of normality. However, none of this is normal. Not one bit.
The ward had been decorated with a Christmas Tree that's in front of the window, stoking's had been placed on the corner of each bed and fairy lights had been wrapped the
"There they are!" mum smiled – her hair dull and her eyes haven't got the spark they had when I was growing up

If there was one thing I regretted, it would be that I got more time with them then Neville did. He got a year whereas I almost got two.
Mum walked up to us, passing out empty sweets from her bedside table.
Neville nodded," Thanks, mum."
She gave us an empty smile, curling my hand around the wrapper then walking back to her bed next to dad.
I put an arm around Neville as we followed her, Dad was sitting by the bed with his usual crossword – he was better than mum, he could hold a convocation but he still does know me. To him, I'm just the girl who visits him a lot.
"You not giving that school any issues?" He asked as I sat next to him.
A smirk graced my lips," Maybe – ill stop as long as Neville stops bringing killer plants into the house."
Neville groaned," That was one time!"
"One too many, it ate my jumper." I rolled my eyes," Loved it as well."
Drizella jumped on to Mum's bed, the little bell on the hat
Dad opened the guitar case with a smile," You still play?"
I looked down sheepishly, "Yep."
He took the instrument in his hands, his hands strumming the cords to 'Hit the road jack.' Gran stood there with a sad smile on her face.
Mum clapped her hands slowly, "marvellous."
Neville took out the two gifts we had brought mum and dad from school, two handheld flags. Mum put them in the vase of flowers that sat between their two beds.

As it was Christmas, visiting hours had been extended – Gran went out to the shops to fetch what she could from the Tesco next door.
I sat with dad on his bed, the guitar sitting on my lap the pads of my fingers has thick line indentations as I pressed my fingers to the cords of Don't you [forget about me] – dad nodded as every so often he moved my finger to the proper position. Hands full of bags, Gran tipped out a selection of sandwiches from the meal deal fridges. Giving me a look, I lent my guitar on the wall, taking the sandwich box from her hand.
"After you've finished, get ready for bed," Gran commanded smoothing the sheets of the extra cots that had been put out.