II. UNEXPECTED GIFTS

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december  twenty-fifth, two thousand

I T  W A S                                                                                                                                                      an owl that woke Draco Malfoy up

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I T  W A S                                                                                                                                                      an owl that woke Draco Malfoy up. It pecked incessantly at his closed window, clearly angry it had to wait in the snow to deliver a parcel.

Draco groaned from his bed, peering at the tawny owl pecking at the window, pissed at whoever the fuck sent him something this early in the morning. He rose from his bed, blankets falling to the floor as he crossed the room, pulling the window open.

The cold air that rushed past him immediately chilled him to the bone, though it brought a fresh feel to his room. The owl hopped in, pleased to finally be inside. It stuck its leg out to Draco.

He knelt down, untying the parcel from the owl's leg, annoyed when it spread its wings and left immediately, brushing his skin with its thick feathers.

Draco watched the unfamiliar owl soar into the clear sky. It was a vivid contrast to the storm he had watched ensue last night. Another gust of wind entered his room and with a trembling shiver, Draco closed the window, turning to the parcel on his floor.

The parcel was tiny and Draco couldn't help but feel worried.

Over the course of the past two years, the Malfoy's had been receiving their fair share of cursed posts. Granted, they had received nothing cursed in a year, but the trauma of live spiders hidden in a parcel still haunted Draco.

He flipped over the tag on the brown wrappings, heart skipping a beat when he read:

To Draco Malfoy

From: Astoria Greengrass

With a bemused grin, Draco pulled off the wrappings, revealing a snow globe at the bottom of the paper. Draco's eyes widened, and he lifted the snow globe out, raising it to his eye level.

It was beautiful magic.

Draco and Astoria were the lone figures in the snow-filled world, both running around and throwing snowballs toward one another. The snow in the sphere was forevermore falling in a light pattern, never obscuring the two moving figures from Draco's sight. He could practically hear Astoria's laughter through the glass.

He placed the snow globe down on his wooden floor, peering into the wrappings once more for a note, but there wasn't one. He frowned, and tilted the snow globe upside down where he saw Astoria's graceful writing once more:

I'm waiting on a rematch. Happy Christmas.

Astoria Greengrass

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