After -Drarry COMPLETE

Chapter 51

—Draco POV—

"Scorpius, I need you to get a quick bath and get dressed, we're go- I paused, door fully open, and staring at my son, astonished. His tongue was sticking out, the way he does when he's concentrating, and his eyes were trained on his feet, which were moving back and forth in large, over exaggerated steps, to the rhythm of the music next door. He kind of looked like he was going to get on one knee to propose, but then kept rethinking it and stepping back. It was ridiculous.

"What on earth are you doing?" He looked up, still moving in the same way.

"It's a dance Maria taught me with this song last week!" He turned back to his feet, pausing, and readjusting to the beat he had lost track of. I was at a bit of a loss for words, but recomposed myself quickly.

"Go take a shower and get dressed in a nice shirt. If you want me to pick something out for you, I can. We're going next door." I closed the door, turning to go take my own shower.

————

I was in front of the full-body mirror in my room, putting up the last button of my navy blue dress shirt, and making sure my hair was properly parted to the left, always the left, when Harry stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a worn-down, blue and white striped button down shirt. His hair was in its usual disarray.

"I'm dressed." He said, gaining my attention. I looked at him, scanning his appearance.

"No you're not. That shirt looks like you washed it in a bucket, and then dried it by hitting it over a rock. Repeatedly. Did you even try to do your hair?"

"Oh come on it can't be that bad I've had this shirt for 12 years. It's nice. And I brushed my hair." He argued. I ignored him, making my way towards the closet, looking through the side that had a few of Harry's shirts. I pulled out a button-down of the same fashion as mine, but maroon colored.

"Put this on."

"That's fancy!"

"No, it is not. We aren't discussing this again," I said, handing him the garment.

"I'm going to check on Scorpius," I told him, passing by the mirror one more time, to make sure I looked fine, before going to Scorpius's room.

"You're young enough to get away with jeans... and I don't want you ruining your nicest pants," I said, going into his closet, while he just looked at me.

"Can I wear pink?"

"You don't have a pink shirt."

"Why not?" He asked incredulously.

"Because I wasn't thinking about a pink shirt when I bought you these? I was thinking of the basic, most common, best looking colors. Besides, pink is not a Christmas color." I said, rummaging around before I found a bright red, collared, short sleeve, button down shirt, with small white dots all around.

"This looks festive enough," I said, holding it up and squinting, making sure the color looked right on him.

"Go ahead and put this on," I told him. "And some jeans. Nice ones, not the ones you wear every day, please."

————

"Draco! Harry! And, Ay Scorpius que guapo estás! You look so handsome!" She greeted, kneeling towards Scorpius. The music was slightly quieter now that it was dark outside, but it was still surprisingly loud, and didn't fail to catch my attention.

"Hi! How are you?" Scorpius asked her, eyes full of excitement.

"I'm good! I see your dad knows how to get you dressed." She stood back up.

"Merry Christmas Eve! Come in, come in," she said, ushering us through the front door before closing it.

She began walking away.

"Merry? Why did she say it like that? That's not how you say it," I whispered to Harry, absolutely bothered. He looked at me with an irked expression.

"I don't know, but it's ridiculous. It's Happy Christmas... not..." He shivered. "That's so stupid," we discussed while entering the house.

"I need to make the salad, pero [but] make yourselves at home," commented Maria, already a bit away from us.

I leaned towards Harry.

"They're packed in here like Sardines," I whispered, keeping my eyes trained on the house.

"It just looks like a full house to me. I mean, there's people in the kitchen, people on the couch, people outside..." he said, looking around.

Anyone else would think he was perfectly fine. But the way he inched closer to me, and how he kept looking around at a house he recognized, just because there were new people around, I knew he was slightly nervous.

"What are those things sticking out of their mouths?!" I exclaimed quietly. Most of the middle-aged men had brown, thick, paper-looking sticks poking out of their mouths. Some were taking them out to huff out some thick, grey smoke, and stick those, things, back into their mouths. I cringed.

"That looks disgusting," I commented. However, Harry didn't respond, leaning into me a little bit more.

"Let's go outside," he muttered stiffly, I began to walk through the crowds with him. Passing by the kitchen, I saw all sorts of side dishes lining large plates. Finger foods with toothpicks, salads, bite-sized sandwiches, but no main course. It was slightly odd, especially considering there was a large pot of what smelled like beans. And Maria always insists you're supposed to eat that over rice, and with some sort of meat.

Going through the sliding glass door, the first thing I noticed was children who ran past, laughing and playing.

"Scorpius, why don't you go ahead and make some friends." I told him.

"Okay!" He took no time to catch up to the children and join them.

Scanning the area, I noticed a group of women sitting in a circle of plastic chairs, talking about something, while one of them was tending to her crying infant, removing the child from the stroller and shaking a bottle to feed it.

To the other side of us, there were two men standing by a box releasing flavorful aromas, who were arguing, quite loudly. And one with a large, black haired goatee was waving a pair of kitchen tongs around in a threatening manner, as he yelled at the other man who had one of those brown paper sticks hanging out of his bottom lip.

I was slightly startled by Maria's voice piping up behind us.

"Beer?"

"No, thank you," I replied, subconsciously keeping Harry behind me.

"Go ahead and talk to them! They're cooking the meat right now," she said, before shouting. "Oye! Antonio! Carlito! Mira! Ellos te van a ayudar!" [Hey! Antonio! Carlito! Look! They're going to help you out!]

"Go ahead!" She said with a smile. Harry and I looked at each other before turning to the two men. As I neared the wooden box, I felt heat radiating from it. One that greatly contrasted the temperatures around us. Peering in, I saw a bed of burning coals.

"You want to see the pig?" Said the man with the black goatee, before putting on an oven mit, and getting the attention of his friend.

"Carlito, ayúdeme con esto para que pueden ver." [Carlito, help me move this thing so they can see it.] The other man, Carlito, waved him off, and took something out of his shirt pocket. I recognized it as on of those sticks.

"Cigar?" He offered. I stepped back, forcing my cringe to not show.

"No, thank you," I said politely. He put it back, before taking his own out of his mouth and letting out a puff of grey smoke that the wind blew straight into my face, I swatted it away, eyes wide, feeling utterly disgusted at the smell, appearance, and feeling. I looked to my left and saw Harry doing the same thing, scrunching up his nose.

"That smells awful!" He exclaimed.

"You get used to it," commented Carlito. He then put an oven mit on as well, and they each grabbed opposite sides of the tray on top of the box before lifting it, and moving it aside.