Yours Seasonally
December 2002
Hermione,
If you’ve gone mad I’m not sure there’s much hope for the rest of us. In lieu of a specific update on the state of my mind, I will instead share with you that 54 stones make up the wall I’m currently leaning against.
I will forewarn you that this letter is going to have a theme of sentimentality running through it. Can’t be helped, I’m afraid.
When I was a child, Samhain was more of a chore than something to be celebrated. We’d gather around the largest fireplace in the main hall, and my father would light the fire, and then we’d all go our separate ways. The elves would make sure it stayed lit. Pipsy used to make pumpkin muffins for me and bring them up to my room, so it was nice to hear that you and mini Potter maintained that tradition, even if you didn’t know about it at the time. I am so bloody grateful that Scorp got to experience a proper Samhain with his family. Thank you, Hermione.
I’m focusing on that instead of my crippling jealousy that I wasn’t there. I think pumpkin carving was deemed too muggle, so we never did it, but I always looked forward to seeing Hagrid’s when he grew them, even if I was an arse about it.
My mother has always been artistic, she used to paint a lot when I was younger, but she stopped because it wasn’t becoming of a proper lady. I swear, the amount of bullshit that used to exist in our lives is ridiculous.
When I read these letters, I imagine that you’re here, talking to me like normal people do when they have a conversation. I’m not sure if that makes me sane, or exactly the opposite. Regardless, it makes me feel less lonely and I’ll take what I can get on that front. I’ve been really missing Callie this week. I don’t know why exactly. Maybe it’s because I’d assumed she was dead, and now I know she isn’t, but she still isn’t here with me. Prison is so shit, Hermione. I’m not saying I don’t deserve it because I know that I do, but Circe, this is fucking shit. Some days, I’m glad that I don’t know my son very well. I imagine I’d be suffering a lot more if I could clearly picture what he looked like. As it is, he remains a foreign concept, safe in your hands instead of mine. Probably for the best, if we’re honest.
I think about the Yule Ball a lot, you know. You looked so beautiful that night. Now that is something I can picture clearly. I royally pissed off Pansy because I spent the whole time fundamentally neglecting her and staring at you instead. Consider your ego thoroughly stroked. I’m not sure Krum was entirely aware of how lucky he was. Do you still speak with him? You strike me as the sort of person to stay in touch with your exes.
I have a favour to ask. Every Christmas, I make mince pies. I know, it’s largely out of character and I’m horrendous at baking anything else, but it’s just something I’ve done ever since our second year at Hogwarts. I realised that Theo, Blaise, and Pansy weren’t going home, as they really didn’t have anything positive to go home for, and so I invited them to the Manor with me. Blaise said that his Nonna used to make mince pies every year, and he missed them after she passed. I found a similar recipe, and I’ve perfected it over the years until he said they tasted as he remembered. Now, Hermione, this recipe is top secret, and I’m trusting you to keep it as such. Pipsy has it, but you’ll have to give her the password because Theo polyjuiced himself as me once to try and get his grubby little paws on it. I’m sorry that you’ll have to go to the Manor, but this really would mean a lot to me and the others. The password is periwinkle. See, I told you I think about the Yule Ball a lot.
Wish Scorp, my mother, and the others Merry Christmas from me. One down, four to go.
Merry Christmas, Hermione.
Yours seasonally,
DLM
***
December 2002
Merry Christmas, Draco. I know it’s been and gone, but I hope you had a comparatively positive day. I can’t imagine they decorate for Yule in there.
Once again, we celebrated the day at Parkinson House, as to include Narcissa. Pansy and I have long suspected that she’s been missing the events she used to throw at the Manor, so we insisted upon black tie for the dress code to make her feel more at home. I then had to spend far too long explaining to Harry and George that black tie doesn’t mean specifically wearing a black tie, and was forced to take them shopping. Never again, it was a harrowing experience to say the least. Narcissa was, however, brighter than she’s been in a while, so it was worth it in the end. Your last letter gave me an idea, and so I got her some painting supplies as a Christmas gift. I wasn’t aware that the indomitable Narcissa Malfoy was in the business of giving hugs like that, but it was a nice surprise all the same.
The mince pies also had quite the reaction. I got a hug from your mother and tears from Pansy Parkinson all in the same day, I knew you’d all gone soft on me. Pipsy had been unsure if she should make them or not, so she was pleased to see me when I went over. She very kindly met me in the gardens, so I didn’t have to enter the building itself. The sense of dread I used to get is gone now, but I wonder if that’s because the people I used to associate with the place are either dead or have become my best friends. Maybe I’ll wait for you to come home, and we can face it together. Up for the challenge? That’s an awfully gryffindor thing for me to say, I know.
Scorpius continues to be the most pampered baby of all time. Blaise got him a kids broom, which he is obviously way too small for. The boys and Gin have all been keen to ‘start them early’, but I’ve kindly informed them that if they want to retain their appendages, then James, Al, and Scorp will be nowhere near anything to do with quidditch for a long time yet. I know it’s important to you, and I promise I won’t be quite as overbearing in future, but it will be a cold day in hell before I allow those morons to put actual babies on brooms. Narcissa had Pipsy bring over some of your old clothes for Scorp, and he’s really rather taken with a particular green romper than she says was always your favourite. It’s nice that you have that connection now. He had other bits and pieces from everyone, toys and such that he won’t really appreciate until he’s bigger, but everyone wanted him to have things to open, even if he doesn’t remember it.
I made him a star projector. The others didn’t really understand what that was at first, so I’ll assume you don’t know either. It’s a little sphere that I charmed to display the night sky on his bedroom ceiling, so he gets to see the stars when he’s inside. It’s actually a muggle thing, but I thought it wouldn’t be too hard to make a magical version as I didn’t feel like introducing you all to the concept of batteries and electricity just yet. Scorpius is up there, as are Draco and Andromeda and all your other family members that Narcissa pointed out to me when I showed it to her. Scorp seems to like it, at least. He’s doing really well, meeting all of his developmental targets as he should. Pansy says I read too many books about childcare, but what did any of you expect? It’s Hermione Granger you’re talking about here.
We left a chair for you again when we had Christmas dinner, in between Theo and I. I wholeheartedly agree with you, prison is shit. I wish I could help somehow.
I still have my Yule Ball dress. Maybe I’ll wear it again for your first Christmas home. I do still write to Victor occasionally, and he’s invited me to his wedding next year. His fiancée is the sort of woman who is intimidatingly pretty whilst being effortlessly nice at the same time. It’s unfair that some people get everything like that, isn’t it?
I had everyone write you a message as a Christmas present. I haven’t read them, so I apologise if they were arses.
Yours in a way that is both merry and bright,
Hermione J Granger
Merry Christmas, my dragon. I miss you very much, more with each passing day if I am honest. Only because I wish you were here to see what has become of our family. It is more than I could ever have hoped for, Draco. Scorpius is so lucky, and so loved. I admit that our previous Yuletides were always cold and formal, but this year was filled with such warmth, so many happy faces and full hearts. Hermione sits at the centre of that, and I am so very grateful to her for everything she has done and continues to do. She will not tell us what you talk about in your letters to each other, but I hope that you have grown fond of her, because she is here to stay, whether you like it or not. I continue to count the days until we are all together again. All my love, Mother
To my absent brother in arms, hope you are well. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Scorp has taken over your position as my favourite Malfoy. It’s the eyes, you just cannot say no to the kid. The others won’t tell you, so I will. Blaise, Pans, and I all had a cry over your bloody mince pies. I think it’s hanging around with gryffindors so often, their incessant optimism and sentimentality seeps into your bones when you aren’t looking. I never thought I’d say this, but I’ve grown rather fond of George Weasley. It’s the penchant for mischief, I reckon. Kindred spirits and all that. A very merry Christmas and a happy new year to you, sir. I miss you. Giant, sloppy, wet kisses from Theodore Nott Jr
I am giving you a very generous ten years. When that time has elapsed, if you haven’t married Granger, then I’ll do it myself. You know the year Rita Skeeter disappeared? She was in a jar in Hermione’s dorm, stuck in her animagus form. I’m in love. I also love you, you giant idiot. Merry Christmas. - Pans
Daph and I are trying for a baby. I wanted you to be the first to know, I figured you don’t get to know things as quickly as the rest of us. I also want you to know that I will get your kid on that broom, he won’t be slytherin’s greatest seeker of all time if we dilly dally with ideals of ‘safety’. Hermione is potentially the scariest witch I’ve ever met, though, so I’ll have to be sneaky about it. I’ve got Harry and Ginny on board (still feels weird calling them that), so maybe she’ll be more annoyed about their betrayal than with me if she finds out. You better date her once you’re out, by the way. I cannot imagine anyone being a better match for you, mate. Stay strong in there, we’re all thinking of you. Love from Blaise and Daph
I wasn’t convinced you’d want a message from me, but Hermione forced me to write something anyway. I want to say thank you. I know it was ultimately Astoria that named Hermione as one of Scorpius’ guardians, but I’ll still thank you. She hadn’t been herself for a long time, not since Ron cheated on her (I know she told you about that, so I’m not betraying any secrets here), and looking after Scorpius has given her purpose again. We’ve got the old Hermione back, and I’m going to say that it’s also down to you, considering how many times I’ve caught her smiling as she rereads your letters. Letters which are, by the way, top secret. I mean it, she doesn’t let anyone within a mile of them. Is the flirting that blatant these days? Regardless, I think we’re going to be stuck with each other, between whatever you and Hermione have going on, and the strange bond that’s developed between our sons. I suppose I’m calling a long overdue ceasefire? You know, I realised the other day that I’m quite looking forward to the future. That isn’t a feeling I’ve felt all that often before. Here’s to the future then, I guess. Merry Christmas, Draco Malfoy. Godric, that’s a surreal thing to write. - Harry Potter
Merry Christmas, Ferret. All the best from the two tolerable Weasleys (even if one of them is technically a Potter now)
***
January 2003
Hermione,
That last letter is one of the best Christmas presents I’ve ever received. Thank you. Actually, that’s a lie. It is the best Christmas present I’ve ever received. Not sure if being in here is lowering or increasing my standards for gift giving. Tell everyone that I really appreciated hearing from them. Yes, even Potter. It doesn’t need to become a regular occurance, though, I think I can only take that sort of thing in moderation. It’s a double edged sword, you see. Reminds me of how many people I have waiting for me, and how much time I have until I get to see any of them again. I’m not articulating that very well. Sorry.
I can’t decide if it’s incredibly cruel of my brain or not, but last week I had a very vivid dream that I had actually been able to come home for Christmas. I’ll probably be clinging to those blurry images for a good while, if I’m honest. This letter has been far more morbid than I intended it to be, I do apologise.
How about we talk about how excellent you are? You’re right, I don’t really understand what a star projector is, but it sounds amazing. I always imagined stargazing with my children and showing them their constellations. It’s nice that it is no longer a weather dependent activity. Of course, Scorp is pampered, he’s a Malfoy, it’s a prerequisite. I am glad, though, that he has you around to stop our ridiculous friends from teaching him to fly before he’s even two years old. I’m as big of a quidditch fan as the next wizard, but even I have limits. You seem to have it all well in hand, anyway.
My mother does not hug. What on earth have you done to her, Hermione? That’s a silly question to ask, because I already know the answer. It’s the same thing you’ve done to me, I think.
Five years is a fucking long time, isn’t it?
Yours,
DLM