Hogwarts and Cheer-Up Parties
-September 1 1991-
Draco prided himself in his ability to maintain the Malfoy Mask. It was a well crafted mask that Draco was required to wear so that he would remain the aloof Heir to the Malfoy family as tradition. The mask would only be dropped among his closest friends and family, and he learned very early on in life, who fell into that category.
Yet sitting here in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, Draco found himself struggling to maintain his emotionless facade. It was just so beautiful here, and he was just in awe of the magnificent castle-turned-school.
Draco ignored the welcome speech from the headmaster---the barmy old fool should count himself lucky that he was still permitted to govern the school---and instead chose to familiarize himself with his fellow Slytherins.
Draco sat with his close friends, Theo, Blaise and Pansy, but he still wanted to get to know the other first-years and start his political circle. It would be beneficial to get to know the older students as well, but Draco figured it’d be best if he worked his way up.
As he ate, he laughed at the terrible jokes Blaise cracked, all while keeping a discreet eye on the other people in the hall. Despite the peace that Wizarding Britain had faced for the past decade, animosity between Slytherin and the other houses was still high. Draco ignored the weary glances of the Hufflepuffs, the calculating gazes of the Ravenclaws, and the direct sneers from the Gryffindor, in favor of familiarizing himself with his housemates.
Daphne Greengrass---a well-standing Pure-Blood with ample political power and wealth---had been sorted into Slytherin. No surprise there. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle sat by the corner whispering to themselves, and Draco tried not to screw his face up with disgust as Crabbe stuffed his face with food. Millicent Bulstrode was gossiping with Tracey Davis by the Second-Years, and Draco knew better than to bother himself with those two.
Draco sighed, and slouched in a subtle way as he reached for his pumpkin juice. Pansy raised a delicate eyebrow at the sight, almost as if she were asking him what the matter was. In response, Draco subtly glanced at his other house mates and shifted his shoulders in a microscopic shrug.
Pansy snorted softly and returned to her food.
The rest of the feast continued in amicable silence, small conversations being struck up at random intervals, but otherwise quiet. Draco followed the Prefects to the Slytherins Dorm after the feast, smiling as Theo talked to him about Hogwarts.
Theo was, for lack of a better term, a nerd. He had floo-called Draco two weeks before term started to rant about Hogwarts and the school. He’d gotten Hogwarts: A History as a gift for his birthday and spent the entire call talking about the different things he learned. Draco had smiled at him and listened as he spoke, pretending to be as interested in it as he was.
“This is the entrance to the Slytherin dorms,” the Prefect---a Seventh-Year named Bellamoon or something had said. Draco tuned out Theo’s rambling so that he could listen to the important information being handed out. “The password is Salazar. Don’t forget it, or you won’t be able to get it.”
Bellamoon whispered the password and the bare stone wall rumbled and Draco had to forcibly keep his jaw shut as he watched with awe as the stone wall split to reveal a common room. It was beautiful. Lush furniture decorated the room and on either side, large staircases led up to the dorm rooms. The center of the room sat a lavish fireplace---a portrait of Salazar Slytherin himself sat on the mantle.
“The right stairs lead to the girl’s dormitory,” Bellamoon said, directing the First-Years attention onto her. “If anyone but a girl tries to go up them, the stairs will send you back down. The stairs on the left lead to the boys dorm, and they are the same as the girl’s. Please, stay with your respective dorms.”
Bellamoon continued to ramble about school rules and other things before she dismissed them. Draco quickly, but elegantly, scaled the stairs, eager to settle into his new room. He smiled when he saw that he was paired with Theo and Blaise. It was three to a dorm, and Draco lucked out. He could’ve been stuck with Crabbe and Goyle. Draco shuddered at the thought.
A flash of red caught his eye, and Draco turned to see a single Red Carnation sitting in a vase by his bed. His mouth felt dry suddenly, and he approached the flower with wide eyes. How… Draco’s eyes narrowed. No doubt, his mother sent the flower along with his belongings. How the Malfoy Matriarch had convinced the school to allow this, Draco didn’t know, but he wasn’t surprised. People found it quite difficult to say ‘no’ to Narcissa Malfoy.
Draco sat down on his bed---the golden plaque sitting above the headboard proudly displaying his name---and stared at the flower.
“You miss him, don’t you?”
Draco turned his head to see that Theo and Blaise had entered the dorms at some point while he’d been eyeing the flower. Draco shrugged slightly, allowing his cold mask to drop in the presence of his closest friends.
“It’s okay, Dray,” Theo said softly, sitting on the bed next to him. “I miss him too. And you’re much closer to him than either of us.” he said, pointing to Blaise who was silently putting his things away while giving the pair space. Theo was better at cheering up Draco when he was in a mood, always have been.
It was true, Draco supposed. He was much closer to Little One than anyone else in his friend circle. Draco supposed it was because of his mother’s job. Narcissa---for as long as Draco could remember Little One being around---had been Little One’s designated babysitter.
Had it been anyone else, Narcissa would’ve been offended at her station. However, something about Little One just inevitably endeared you to him. Narcissa adored her role with Little One, and often dragged Draco with her when she watched the toddler.
Over the many years that Draco had known Little One, they became very close. Draco thought of the baby inferius as his little brother, and Draco knew that he’d do anything to protect him. It’s going to be very strange without Little One around.
It’s going to take some serious getting used to, not seeing Little One every few days, and Draco knew that the second the red Carnation on his nightstand wilted, he was going to be very sad. Maybe he could ask his mother to send him a carnation every time she visited the Dark Lord’s Castle.
“Don’t worry, Dray,” Theo said, squeezing his hand. “We’ll see him over Yule. It’ll be fine, you’ll see.”
Draco squeezed back, his gaze not leaving the Carnation on his nightstand. “Yeah,” he said softly. “It’ll be fine.”
Little One wandered the castle aimlessly.
Little One didn’t really have a set destination in mind, he was just wandering. His snake-momma was off eating again, and he didn’t know where Papa was, and Auntie Cissy wasn’t here either. Little One was bored in his room---he’d made several flower crowns, but there was no one to wear them.
And so, flower crowns in hand, Little One set out to find company. He traced the old stones of the castle walls with one hand as he walked, tracing his way around the castle. It was unusually quiet in the castle, and it made Little One nervous.
The castle wasn’t silent often.
There were always people walking around, talking, laughing, screaming---Little One didn’t know why they screamed, but he heard it nonetheless---but for some reason, no one was around. By now, Little One would’ve encountered someone in their funny little masks and given them a flower crown, but he still hadn’t found anyone.
Little One stood in an empty common room, the light from the outside gardens shining through the ceiling-length windows, and crossed his arms. His emerald-eyes scrunched with confusion as he looked around.
There was no one in the castle.
Little One shifted nervously, and he fought the urge to run and hide. Little One didn’t like being all alone, it made him nervous. Snake-momma wasn’t here, and Little One heard Aunty Cissy telling Papa that she would be in France for a little while, but why was Papa gone?
He sat down in a heap in the center of the common room, suddenly fighting the urge to cry.
“What’s wrong, Little One?” Little One looked up to see snake-momma slithering into the room. Little One giggled silently when her tongue flicked over his cheek. That tickled! “You smell sad.”
“I’m all alone,” Little One hissed softly, forcibly reminding himself not to jump. Papa didn’t mind when Little One spoke. Little One wouldn’t get punished for speaking. Not here. “I don’t like being alone.”
Snake-momma hissed at him, and Little One could tell that she was amused. “You are not alone, silly child,” she said, coiling around him in comfort. Little One counted her scales idly. “I am here.”
“Where is Papa?” Little One asked, petting snake-momma gently. Snake-momma hissed in content as Little One stroked her scales. His flower crowns lay forgotten on the floor, as Little One relaxed in his snake-momma’s hold.
“Master is away,” snake-momma said. “He has business to attend to.”
Little One frowned. He was no stranger to Papa’s random expeditions that would keep him out of the house for days on end. Little One always hated those. He was gone for so long doing things that Little One didn’t understand. He had asked Papa once, what he did when he was gone. Papa had just chuckled at him and promised that it was nothing.
Little One didn’t like it when Papa was away for a very long time. Little One liked Aunty Cissy just fine, but her goodnight hugs were never as good as Papa’s, and she wasn’t very good at making Little One feel better after a nightmare. Little One wished that Papa would just stay at home with him, but Little One didn’t want to be selfish.
If Little One was good, then he’d get to stay here with his Papa, and his snake-momma, and his Aunty Cissy, and his Draco, and his garden forever!
But even still…
Another thing that Little One hated about Papa leaving, was how sad Papa would be when he came home. Little One knew he was sad because he would come find him and hug him for a really long time. Why else would Papa do that unless he was sad? Little One was really good about making Papa feel better---he would always give him flowers and play with him. Then he’d be much happier than he was when he came home.
Little One bit his lip and slowly stood up, ignoring his snake-momma’s confused hissing. If Papa was away on business, then he was going to be sad again when he came home.
“Little One?” snake-momma asked.
“Papa needs flowers.” Little One said in response. Snake-momma was still confused, Little One could tell, but he chose to walk back to his room instead. He needed to find the perfect flowers for Papa.
His room was very large---Little One had still not explored all of it. Papa made it into a perfect garden, just for him that never ended---but in the very center sat a huge oak tree. The branches spread out in a soft canopy filled with glowing lights. His bed hung from soft vines and was a perfect swing. But the best part, hidden in the round knob in the center of the trunk, was his Hidden Things.
It was a trunk full of Little One’s most precious belongings. Inside it lay a tattered, old baby blanket, (the only thing Little One had left of his first parents) a toy ball that Papa had given him on the night he brought him home. It was small and golden and it had tiny fairy wings that fluttered whenever Little One was near. A pair of broken glasses that he’d gotten for a birthday long before Papa came and rescued him. And finally, two paper drawings. One was of a family Little One dreamed about every now and again---a mommy with bright red hair and a daddy with big glasses and black hair. There were the two uncles Padfoot and Moony, and a baby that never cried. Little One didn’t know who they were, but he always felt happy when he woke from those dreams. The second was of his family---Papa, with his bright red eyes and elegant features. (Little One had heard some of Papa’s friends talking about how he was really handsome and pretty. Little One had told Papa that with a soft giggle.) Snake-momma and Little One were standing next to Papa, and there were tiny flowers drawn around them.
Papa said that it was his favorite drawing in the whole wide world.
Little One pulled out the trunk and grabbed his second drawing, before he safely tucked it back away. If Papa was sad, then maybe seeing his favorite drawing would help cheer him up.
Then Little One pulled out a whole bunch of Papa’s favorite flowers: Red Spider Lilies.
He smiled at the flowers before he ran quickly to Papa’s room. Snake-momma was already in Papa’s room, curled up by the fireplace. She lifted her head when Little One entered and hissed sleepily at him. Little One smiled and quickly placed the flowers in a pile on the floor.
(Little One would’ve placed the flowers in a vase, but Papa said Little One wasn’t allowed to after he broke it last time and stepped into the shards.)
He set his Papa’s favorite drawing next to the flowers before he pulled out one of his books. Papa knew that Little One liked to read, and the lowest shelf on his bookshelf in his room was all for Little One. Little One then crawled over to snake-momma to read.
Snake-momma coiled around him in a protective gesture, and Little One settled in comfortably and began to read. It didn’t take long before snake-momma’s calming embrace and the warmth from the fire pulled Little One into a peaceful sleep.
It wasn’t until several hours later, did Voldemort find them.
Voldemort entered his room with a weary sigh, exhausted from dealing with idiots in the New Ministry all day. His eyes widened when he saw what was waiting for him in his room. First he notices the bouquet of flowers sitting on the floor, and the drawing Little One made a few years ago.
He smiles fondly as he lifts the flower and turns to place them in the vase by his bedside. He then picks up the drawing and sets it on his nightstand. He turns his head when he hears a sleepy murmur.
He smiles wider at the sight of Little One curled up with Nagini, asleep by the fire.
He leans down and gently lifts the toddler out of Nagini’s protective grasp. Little One stirs, but does not wake, and Voldemort presses a soft kiss to the lightning bolt scar on his forehead---he ignores the rage he feels when he thinks about how his Little One received the scar---and walks though the portrait of flowers that connect his room to Little One’s. He gently lays the inferius on the soft bed of wild flowers and covers him with a handmade quilt gifted to him from Narcissa.
“You are my most precious,” he whispers as he smooths out Little One’s hair. “No harm shall ever befall you.”
He then kisses Little One’s temple once more before he walks out of the room and back into his quarters. He sighs as he lays down on the bed, but the anger and annoyance washes away at the sight of the family drawing and flowers on his nightstand.
Voldemort fell asleep peacefully, and the moon rose outside, casting a warm glow on the vase of Spider Lilies on the Dark Lord’s bedside table.