Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. This story is purely for entertainment purposes only. I am
making no money from this.
Notes: Draco spends Christmas Day with his family. Ron hears some news that he finds particularly difficult to handle.
Draco was at that blissful point when one is still asleep, but the edges of consciousness are tickling at the brain. He’d been
sleeping better and eating a little better in the few days since arriving at Professor Snape’s home. With his mother and half-
sister helping him, his nausea had died down somewhat. For that, he was extremely grateful.
He was just about to stretch his arms when the door opened and the sounds of two little pairs of feet ran into his bedroom.
The bed shook and he opened his eyes, smiling at his niece and nephew as they bounced just once upon his bed.
“Uncle Draco! Uncle Draco!” They chimed, erupting into giggles, Dove eagerly hugging her uncle tightly.
“Good morning, you two.” Draco smirked, easing himself out of Dove’s arms and sitting up in bed.
“Mother told us to come get you.” Joseph said. “Everyone’s waiting downstairs for us.”
Draco nodded. It was Christmas morning . . . time for family. Naturally, Draco would be wanted downstairs with the rest of
them. He got out of bed, putting on his slippers as he shrugged a robe on over his pajamas. Dove and Joseph were impatient
though and didn’t seem to want to wait any longer. They grabbed his hands, all but dragging him out of the bedroom in their
eagerness to get to the presents that awaited them.
At the bottom of the stairs, Draco had to pause. Sure he was feeling better than he had in months, but he did get queasy now
and again . . . his morning sickness still a problem that plagued him in the mornings and at various points throughout the course
of his days. The children ran on ahead of him, entering the family room that all of them had decorated the day Raven and her
family had arrived.
“Are you feeling well, Draco dear?” The kind voice of Narcissa Malfoy asked, her warm hand brushing through Draco’s
disheveled hair in a loving manner.
Draco smiled. “Yes, Mother. I was simply a little . . . nauseous. It’ll pass in a moment.” He replied, taking her hand when it
was offered to him.
Narcissa nodded, accepting his answer. “Come on then. Everyone’s waiting.”
With a warm smile kept on her face, she led her son into the family room. Draco’s eyes wandered along the decorations in the
room that simply made Draco feel as if he were truly home, settling on the tree that dominated one of the corners of the room.
Presents were piled up underneath it, most of them for Raven and her family, but a few for Draco as well. Draco knew that
his mother had made most of those purchases, but the effort was greatly appreciated. Even with little to open himself, he was
happy to be here.
They sat together as family. Draco, Dove, and Joseph sat on the floor, engrossed in opening gifts. Raven, Jonathan, Snape,
and Narcissa smiled pleasantly, also opening whatever gifts were passed their way from under the tree. It was easily the
happiest moment that Draco could ever remember having. He’d always wanted a larger family, yet it had always seemed to be
denied to him. Now he had it, if only for now . . . he doubted that every Christmas would be like this.
Draco’s eyes widened as he opened one gift, his hands faltering in their tearing of the gift-wrapping. He passed trembling
fingers over the soft cloth contained by the box, not feeling as his mother knelt down beside him. However, he did look up as
he felt her arm encircle his body and hold him close.
“Mother? But this . . .” He whispered, not caring if anyone else heard him. He had to know if his mother was really giving
this to him. It was too precious to believe that she ever would.
Narcissa Malfoy smiled, gliding her slender fingers along his cheek. “Yes, I am giving it to you, my son.” She said quietly,
dropping her hand to the box and carefully lifting the soft blanket from within. “I used to wrap you in this when you were
little. Just as my mother did with me, and her mother, and so on . . . it is a treasured family heirloom. And I gladly pass it on
She unfolded the blanket with a shake. Pushing the empty box off of Draco’s lap, she let the blanket pool on the floor around
them, taking Draco’s hand and laying it on top of the fabric. It was the softest thing that he had ever felt . . . he vaguely
remembered it from when he was little, remembered his mother showing it to him and lamenting that she had no one to give it
to, as the tradition said it was to be passed only from mother to an expecting daughter. Draco guessed that he now fit in with
the tradition . . . he was about to bear an offspring.
“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes fixated on the delicate embroidery. It had been handmade generations ago . . . a spell cast
upon it by the maker so that it would last as long as the bloodline did.
“Of course. You are going to have a child . . . and I want my first grandchild to have the very best.” She stroked his cheek
again. “Besides, it will save you some aggravation. There is a very useful calming spell on it. Whoever you wrap it in, will
have sweet dreams while they sleep.”
Draco nodded. He could feel that spell right now, even though the blanket was merely draped across his lap. He felt at ease,
calm. Quietly, he folded the blanket once again. “Thank you, Mother.” He whispered, giving his mother a quick kiss to the
Raven set the back of her hand over her mouth as she yawned. The morning had gone by rather quickly. Here it was, nearing
afternoon, and they had yet to do anything more than open their gifts.
Looking to the tree, where her children and younger half-brother had been opening their gifts, a smile quickly spread across her
face. The scene she found there was simply adorable, almost enough to make her laugh. There, the three of them . . . Dove,
Joseph, and Draco . . . had fallen asleep amass a pile of shredded wrapping paper and scattered presents. Draco was in the
middle, Dove snuggling close to his chest, while Joseph napped quietly behind him.
Raven nudged her father, who had been engrossed in a book that Raven had given to him. She pointed to the slumbering trio.
“Look.” She whispered. “I think it’s nap time.”
Serverus nodded. “I agree . . . stress is not a good thing for your brother right now. He needs all the rest he can get. Let’s
put them to bed . . . we’ll wake them later.”
He rose to his feet, striding over to the three that slept. Silently, he gestured to Jonathan, who quickly obliged and lifted Joseph
from the floor. Narcissa helped as well, picking up Dove and holding her gently. Then Serverus bent and scooped Draco into
Draco stirred, but didn’t wake as he was carried up the stairs and to his room. Raven quickly followed, eager to spend time
with her brother, even if he was asleep. She appreciated the time she had with him, knowing that it would not last. Soon he
would have to go back to school and she would have to return to work . . . she only hoped that she would be able to visit with
him again. Hopefully, before next Christmas. She wanted to get to know her brother better.
Narcissa and Jonathan took Dove and Joseph off to bed, while Raven followed behind her father into Draco’s room. She
stood by and watched as her father settled Draco in bed, as he was removing Draco’s robe and slippers and covered him with
“I think I’ll stay in here for a little while.” Raven said, giving her father a warm hug.
“Come down if you want something to eat.” Father said, placing a quick kiss to her forehead before he left the bedroom.
Raven smiled, walking around to the other side of the bed and climbing in. She laid down beside Draco, slipping one arm
around him. She yawned, nearly giggling as he turned to her and snuggled close, murmuring incoherently as he slipped back
into slumber. Raven smiled, curling her fingers through Draco’s silky hair as she closed her eyes. She hoped that things
would work out well for him . . . things would only be difficult for him once he returned to school, she knew that, especially
with the pregnancy.
Ron blinked as Hermione burst into the Common Room with a nervous smile on her face. She ran over and flopped down on
the sofa between Harry and Ron, interrupting a conversation they had been having about Quidditch. She looked as if she
wanted to say something, but she could only open and close her mouth soundlessly, a thick book clutched tightly in her arms.
“Uh . . . Hermione?” Harry asked, a nervous twinge to his tone. To see Hermione so hesitant to talk while she was holding a
rather large book in her hands . . . it was disturbing.
Hermione looked at Ron, with an expression that made him shiver. “Ron . . . I found something in a book on Veelas . . . I don’
t know if it happened with Malfoy . . . there’s a chance though, but I don’t know.”
“You’re babbling.” Ron stated. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”
With a nod, Hermione flipped open the book that she held, turning to a specific page. She held it open on her lap, pointing to
the passage that she was speaking of. “I read here . . . that there’s something special about Veela males. They go through a
physical change when they are in heat, which only occurs once a year. When in heat they can . . . well, they can . . . they can
“What?!” Ron asked, aghast. No, oh no . . . he hadn’t . . . had he?
His mind quickly spiraled, going over and over the facts that he was certain of. One, he had slept with Draco . . . twice. Two
. . . Draco had developed an apparent illness after about a month. The paleness, the vomiting, the running from class to be sick
. . . it WAS similar to morning sickness.
He didn’t want to believe it, but the signs were all there. There was the time that Ron had caught Draco staring at seemingly
nothing, the blonde’s hand softly stroking his own stomach . . . the signs all fit. But Ron didn’t want to believe it. He could be
a father? No, this was too much information to process. Draco would have told him, wouldn’t he?
It was too much. Ron jumped to his feet, pacing back and forth as he continued to think. When he couldn’t deny it, not
without having doubta anyway, he stopped. He turned and looked to his friends, seeing their concerned faces directed his
“I’m a father?” He asked in a meek voice, barely registering that it was his own voice that had spoken before the world around
him went dark and he collapsed to the floor.
To Be Continued . . .