For all of my worrying, Christmas was nowhere near as awkward as I'd anticipated; the children were in high spirits and doing well in their classes and Harry somehow managed to behave as he did back when things between us were still going brilliantly. I'd even gotten into the swing of things, having a ball baking up pies and biscuits with the kids and taunting them with obscure hints about their gifts.
The only break in my holiday cheer came on Christmas morning after Al tore open the wrapping on the last gift beneath the tree. James, fingers curled around a handsome silver chain from his first girlfriend, peered over at me from his perch on the arm of the chair I was forever yelling at him to sit in properly. "What'd you and Dad get for each other? I didn't see you exchange gifts."
Bloody observant child I raised- that's what I get for hoping that my children would be clever. Harry rode to the rescue. "We did our gifts earlier, before you lot came home," he said with a jovial smile. "We didn't want you to spend your Christmas gagging over how sweet your old parents are."
I wanted to both thank him and smack him- he was helping them to enjoy the holiday, but saying things like that now was going to make things worse in the long run.
"Yes, that's right." I smiled at James. "Now get your skinny arse in that chair the way you're supposed to."
"Mum!"
"Don't 'mum' me, James. Sit." I pointed imperiously and watched with no small amount of satisfaction as he slithered over the arm onto the cushion. Good to know that mum's patented 'do it before I tan your hide' voice still worked.
After dinner was done and I'd finished the washing up, I got an owl from Draco Malfoy, asking if he could pop by on Boxing Day morning to finish the soil tests and check on the amaryllis bulb he'd sent me. Much to the eagle owl's chagrin, I went to go find Harry before I dashed off my reply, leaving the haughty looking bird perched on my breadbox.
I found him in the sitting room thumbing through the book on the Chudley Cannons Ron had sent him. It had grown into a bizarre tradition for the two of them to get one another Christmas gifts that they actually wanted themselves and then traded back. Men were, on the whole, very strange creatures.
"Ah, there you are, Gin. I may have to disappoint your brother and keep this book. It's fascinating."
Propping myself against the mantle, I waited until he looked up at me. "How good of a mood are you in?"
He frowned. "What sort of question is that?" Craning his neck to look out into the hall, Harry added, "How much money do they need?"
"No one needs any money, Harry," I sighed, folding my arms across my chest. His looseness with the proverbial purse strings for the children's every whim had caused more than one blazing row between us over the years. "And they've each got a mountain of gifts, so don't go doling out Galleons for unnecessary shopping trips, either." I found myself nervously twisting my hands and just blurted out, "Draco Malfoy offered to stop by tomorrow to finish helping me with the garden and I don't want to invite him over only to end up tossing buckets of cold water on you when the two of you attack one another."
Harry dumped the book on the floor as he climbed to his feet. "We agreed on announcing our split in the summer, Ginny, and now you want to bring a date to our home on Boxing Day? When our children are here?" He actually looked capable of murder, his green eyes flashing dangerously in his suddenly pale face. "And as if that weren't enough, it's Draco bloody Malfoy?"
Lucky for me, his 'someone is about to die' look stopped inspiring terror in me years ago. I marched over and poked him square in the chest. "It's not a date, you prat, and if it was, do you really think I'd be so utterly inconsiderate as to bring him here during the holidays?" I fluttered my lashes and mustered my best syrupy-sweet voice. "Oh, right, luv, meet my husband and kids. The kids are spoiled to within an inch of their lives and my husband couldn't care less if you shag me so long as it's not in front of him. Right then, introductions over. Let's go grope one another."
"They are not spoiled!" Harry hissed, dropping his voice to a whisper as Al and Lily went tearing past and James chased them, cackling merrily. "There's nothing wrong with growing up wealthy, Ginny; just because you grew up wearing hand-me-downs and putting every Knut you had into savings doesn't mean they should have to."
God, he could be thick. "I know that, Harry, and I'm thrilled they don't have to overhear conversations about Mummy pawning her family heirlooms so they could make their mortgage payment. But spoiling them rotten doesn't make up for your childhood either, and if you keep giving them everything they look twice at, they're going to grow up into very shallow, irresponsible adults, Harry, mark my words. I'm always so stingy because I'm counterbalancing you." I frowned fiercely. "Damn it all, now we're a mile off topic. Is it all right if he stops by for an hour tomorrow or not? You've my word that I won't be tearing his clothes off."
I was too close for his mumbled, "And who'd want to? The ferrety git probably stinks of fertilizer anyway," to go unnoticed.
"Harry," I warned. "Just don't. I have no interest in him that way. He's helping me with the whole gardening thing, and he's the only one in the whole bloody club that's within twenty years of me. He's not as bad as you think; in fact, he's a lot mellower now."
He snorted and knelt to pick up the Chudley Cannons book and suddenly I was in the strange position of defending Draco Malfoy. Again.
"He is, you know. Mellow. Talks about his son and all sorts of plants and not a single poke at my family or even you. You'd never know he was the same boy we were at school with."
Clutching the book, Harry stood and studied me closely. "I've seen him since we left school, Ginny," he said slowly. "A number of times, in fact, since his family still donates to a number of the Ministry's pet charities. The point is that he still pisses me right off without a word. Can't you find a better friend?"
Oh, he did that beseeching look so well. "No, Harry. If he's willing to come here to help me despite your past… issues, then he's certainly someone I'd consider being friends with." I looked him straight in the eyes until he began to shift from foot to foot. He'd never been able to beat me in a staring contest. "Are you going to be civil tomorrow? For my sake, please say you will."
Blowing out a breath in defeat, he nodded. "Yeah, that's fine. Just maybe I'll go visit Ron and Hermione whilst he's here, okay?"
I smiled warmly. Harry could be reasonable if you gave him a bit of a nudge. "Give them my love."
As any housewife will tell you, it's impossible to keep your house clean when company is coming. Even if you miraculously have everything done, things will spontaneously combust just to thwart you.
Sure enough, the chimes went off just as I finished getting the kitchen neatened after Lily accidently dropped the pitcher of pumpkin juice all over the floor. I still had the plate and glass from James' room that had been growing whitish fuzz to scrub. "James!" I got no response and, up to my elbows in soapy water in the kitchen, I had little choice but to try again. "JAMES!" I bellowed.
The little bugger was watching telly in the sitting room, not ten feet from the front door. "What?" he shouted back without getting up. God, he was fourteen going on forty.
"Answer the front door, please, and tell our guest I'll be just a minute. I have to finish disinfecting the dishes that you left to mould in your room three days ago."
The chimes sounded again. "James, I'll take away your racing broom if you're not at that door in three seconds, so help me-" I heard mad scrambling; threats always did work the best with my oldest son.
I was still scrubbing intently at the dishes when Draco's distinctive voice said behind me, "Aren't we just the picture of domesticity." I scowled. "James -the one that let you in- was growing things in his room. I'll be done in a moment; why don't you have a seat?" I jerked my chin at the breakfast nook.
"So thanks for coming over to help me finish," I said as I finished up. "It was really quite brave of you, Boxing Day and all."
He grinned. "So do you have Potter tranquilized upstairs or should I have my wand out?" He waved me off. "I'm just teasing. By the by, who's kid let me in? He's too young to be Lupin's, isn't he?"
"That was James. My oldest."
"With Potter?"
Unmindful of the water dripping everywhere, I turned slowly to him. He didn't look like he was being purposely malicious, just curious.
"Yes, with Harry. Why wouldn't you think so?" Then it dawned on me. It'd been so many years since I'd had to explain to someone that it hadn't occurred to me. "You're talking about his eyes, then, are you?"
"I know the basics of genetics, Ginny, and green eyes plus brown eyes do not make blue." Draco's lips quirked devilishly. "So who was the bloke?"
Without thinking, I hurled a fork at him and, when it clanged harmlessly off the table, he threw his head back and laughed. "I'm having you on; I'm not blind. He looks just like Potter as a teen."
"Most of my family have blue eyes," I informed him quite stiffly. "James got it from my side; some sort of recessive gene, I guess." When he laughed again, I added stiffly, "It wasn't so funny when he was a baby and I had to explain it to every bloody stranger that wanted to see the famous Harry Potter's first child."
He grinned unrepentantly. "Too bad I hadn't known then. It would have been spectacular to spread the rumor that Potter's kid wasn't his."
I shook a fist at him. "Stow it, Malfoy, before I rearrange that face of yours. I'll have you know-"
He cut me off before I got up a good head of steam. "Teasing, Ginny. So how's that amaryllis coming?"
Accepting that I had just been neatly outmaneuvered, I snatched the pot off the pedestal near the door. "You sent me a dud, Malfoy. I followed your instructions to the letter. It's barely grown at all."
Draco looked at the bulb incredulously. "Merciful Merlin, Potter, I told you to water it, not stick it in a small pond. It's an amaryllis, not papyrus." He poked at it. "I've no idea how it's even still alive."
Hands on my hips, a habit from my mum I'd yet to break, I scowled at him. "You said to water it generously when I planted it. I did. You need to be more specific."
Stalking around the counter to snatch the roll of paper towels, Draco threw them at me and frowned. "Start blotting and it may actually survive." He shook his head mournfully. "How did you ever pass Herbology?" He said this around a mouthful of my prize-winning butterhorn biscuits, a recipe from my Great Aunt Millie that I guarded jealously. "This is quite delicious, by the way."
The sheer gall. He'd unwrapped the plate of biscuits I'd had on the counter without even a by your leave. I gaped at him, at a loss for words. The git was lucky I was busy blotting that damn bulb dry; otherwise, I'd have hexed that butterhorn straight up his nose.
Polishing off the morsel and smacking his lips loudly, he shouldered me out of the way and carried the pot to the sink. "There's no hope for it, Ginny. You're going to have to repot this if it's going to survive."
"Mummy, who's that man?" Lily was standing in the doorway, Al and James just behind her.
The heavens were surely about to explode- I was introducing my children to their father's childhood nemesis. "This is Draco Malfoy, sweetheart. He's an old schoolmate of your father's." His incredulous look had me amending myself as fast as I could. "Not exactly 'mate', mind you, more of a…" I groped for the right word.
"Nemesis?" he offered with a cocky smile.
Good God, the man read minds. "Well, I was going to say acquaintance, but that'll do."
James groaned. "No relation to Scorpius Malfoy, I hope?" He folded his arms. "Lippy little bugger. Always popping off at the mouth over something."
Draco's lips twitched. "Takes after his father, I imagine."
James suddenly smiled, pleased to have found someone who shared his sentiments. "So what is he, your nephew or something?"
"Son," Draco deadpanned, though he broke out in a full-fledged grin when James flushed to the roots of his hair.
Al jumped to his brother's defense. "He didn't mean anything by it, Mr. Malfoy, it's just that Scorpius is always calling our cousin Rose names and James told him that next time he'd-"
James slapped his hand over his younger brother's mouth. "I said that next time I'd tell on him," he said desperately. "Yes, that's exactly what I said. Great to meet you, Mr. Malfoy, but we've got things to do." Using his free hand to catch Lily's arm, he steered his younger siblings back out into the hallway. "C'mon, Lils, let's all have a go at Al's new gaming system."
As the kids stampeded up the stairs with all the grace of a herd of three-legged dragons, I shook my head and looked over at Draco. He was eating another of my biscuits. "Who said you could have one of those?" I demanded. "Those are for my neighbor, Malfoy."
He ate the rest of it with excruciating slowness. "You should sell those. They're sinful."
I brandished my wand at him before Summoning my gardening gloves and anorak. "Outside, Malfoy. We've got less than an hour before Harry comes home, and I promised him you'd be gone by then."
He shooed me out the door and closed it himself before heading for the walk that circled around to the front of the house. "Wouldn't want to upset Potter," he said with a grin. "Ooh! I've a proposition for you."
I eyed him warily. Draco Malfoy plus evil grin plus Harry Potter's house offered far too many appalling ideas. "What's that?"
"I make sure we get these soil tests knocked out in fifteen minutes or less and you make me a plate of those biscuits."
Was he kidding? It was well below freezing and the wind was absolutely howling today. "Done." I grinned. "Make it less than ten and I'll send you home with a double batch."
He didn't reply- just set off for the front garden at a dead run.
Author notes: Sneak Preview (though I won't say how far ahead in the story this scene is):
I needed a nice cup of tea to sort this all out- a nice cup liberally spiked with whisky, that is. After all, five in the morning is far too early to be swigging straight from the gin bottle, but a fancied-up cuppa was perfectly acceptable. Right?
"It was Colonel Mustard in the conservatory with the lead pipe," he said with a grin.
I looked at him in amazement. "You've played Clue?"
Draco shrugged. "My son has an infatuation with board games." He took the glass of brandy I offered him. "And let me tell you, it's damned emasculating being whipped by your mother at Risk." He took a healthy swallow before adding, "She seems to have an uncanny knack for world domination."
I pictured Narcissa Malfoy massing her armies across Asia. There's a scary thought.
I stared at him. "Draco Malfoy, did you just make a joke? A funny one, at that?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I told you, Ginny, there are a number of things you don't know about me. My talent for drollery chief among them."
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