Henrietta Potter And The Slytherin Child - (A 'Henrietta Potter' sequel) || D.M

33 - After Dinner Desserts

I watched as Draco proudly carved the turkey at the kitchen table, my eyes averting only when a loud crack resounded in the air, made by the boys pulling a cracker, both laughing as they scrabbled to get at the prize.

The scene before me caused a warmth to settle within my heart. This was all I ever wanted.

It was a shame, however, that it was only temporary.

"Did you hear that Piper Parkinson didn't go home for Christmas?" Albus told Scorpius in a horrified whisper, "Can you just imagine having Christmas dinner with McGonagall?!"

"You know, I spent most Christmases at Hogwarts, back in the day," I told the boys who both looked up at me with dumbfounded expressions upon their faces.

"But why would you want to do that?" Scorpius asked, aghast.

"Well, it was either that or go back to the Dursley's who treated me like I was something unpleasant found on the bottom of a shoe."

Scorpius's brow creased into a frown. "The Dursley's?"

"They're Mum's aunt and uncle," Albus explained as he unfolded a green paper Christmas hat and shoved it upon his head. "They used to starve her and lock her in a cupboard under the stairs."

There was a loud clatter, I looked up to see that Draco had dropped the carving knife. As he bent down to retrieve it, I noticed his normally pale face had a pink tinge and he looked furious.

"Wow! Really?" Scorpius gasped in astonishment, turning towards me. "Do you still see them?"

"Good god no!" I cried - like I'd ever want to see those fuckers again. "Aunt Petunia is dead now, anyway."

"No big loss there," Draco muttered under his breath.

I glanced back up at him to find his face was dark with hatred, yet when our eyes met, I was shocked to see the instant softening of his expression as he gazed tenderly at me.

"Anyway," I said, turning my attention back to the boys, "what I'm saying is, I owe a lot to Hogwarts. And for whatever reason Piper Parkinson is not wanted at home," (probably that bitch Pansy just being a bitch mother) "then I know Hogwarts will give her the lovely homely Christmas that every child deserves."

"Did you ever stay at Hogwarts for Christmas, Dad?" Scorpius looked to his father as he helped himself to carrots.

"Once or twice," Draco drawled, placing himself down in the chair next to me, opposite Scorpius, "when such events as the Yule Ball called for it."

"The Yule Ball?" Albus's head shot up as he glanced at me suspiciously, "you've never mentioned that before."

I felt a heavy ache in my chest. Over the years, I had told Albus a lot about my adventures in Hogwarts, but I had always struggled to bring up events surrounding the Triwizard Tournament. Because it always led to the same place. To the graveyard. To Cedric.

Draco glanced apprehensively at me. Clearly sensing my discomfort on the topic, he quickly stepped in.

"It was just some nonsensical ball held on Christmas day," he explained to my son, shrugging dismissively as though it had not been anything worth talking about.

"Why'd they have a ball on Christmas day? Seems a bit silly." Albus pressed, forking a load of sausages onto his plate.

I knew my son, and I knew he wasn't going to drop this. So, I took a shaky breath. "It was for an event called the Triwizard Tournament." I explained quietly. "All the Champions had to go with a date and dance."