A knock on the door sent Draco to answer it, grinning as he saw Hermione in a knee length dress and short matching pumps, carrying her wrap and gaily wrapped box. Her hair had been plaited in a French Braid, the tail tucked up with the jewelled clasp Draco had given her.

“You look perfect, Hermione,” he complimented, leading her over to the sitting area and offering her a choice of drink.

“Thank you, Draco! You look dapper, as always,” she returned, admiring his blazer and turtleneck combination, all in shades of charcoal grey, setting off his platinum looks. “Where’s Harry?” she asked, looking around.

“Getting ready – he should be here in a moment. So, what did you get your god-daughter?” he asked, smirking.

Hermione blushed; she had been pleasantly shocked when Narcissa had sent her a note that summer asking her to accept the honoured position. “I knitted her a little sweater set. I’ve been getting pretty good at the knitting and I can use the knitting charms at school... Mrs Weasley helped me pick out the yarn... Anyway, I hope it fits.” She fiddled with the bow on the gift box, alternately straightening and puffing it up in her nervousness.

“I’m sure it will,” Draco soothed, as Severus walked in – also wearing a Muggle blazer and turtleneck. His Blazer was black, however and the shirt was a deep emerald green. 

“Miss Granger, I’ve been wishing to speak to you about your House-elf campaign. I recently ran across Dobby who was wearing numerous knitted watch-caps. Care to explain?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

She immediately took the defensive. “Professor, it is criminal how the Wizarding world treats House-elves. They are unpaid slave labour! If I can free just one, I’ll be doing them a service!”

“Hermione, have you ever talked to a House-elf? Besides Dobby? He doesn’t count – he’s just nutters,” Draco dismissed. “They like what they do; it is in their nature to be bonded to a Wizard family.”

“Why in the world would anyone WANT to be a slave?” she retorted, her eyes flashing with passion.

“They are not slaves; they are bonded to a place or family. If they weren’t, their magic would destroy them. This way, they have purpose and someone to watch over them. There are still some clans – like Runeskin’s – that retain the old ways and for those elves, they serve under their own volition and are paid for their work – just like any other servant or worker. But most of the clans lost their way, the magic they held was too strong and it destroyed them. Bonding served as a way to control the runaway magic, guiding it towards a useful end. They really do prefer it this way,” Severus explained gently. “And they do not appreciate being tricked into being freed. As a result, no other elf has cleaned the Gryffindor rooms – only Dobby will perform the task.”

Hermione hung her head and Draco put a comforting arm around her shoulder. “I didn’t know... I looked in the library, I really did – but there is not much information – this would be unheard of in the Muggle world,” she said despondently. “Dobby seemed so happy to be free, I just thought...”

“Dobby was happy because he was free from my sire, the sadistic bastard!” Draco explained. “Most bonded families are not that way with their House-elves. Really, you should go to the kitchens sometime and just talk with the other elves.”

She nodded reflectively, then straightened up as Harry came in, wearing his new Weasley jumper. He always loved the knitted gifts from Ron’s mum and tended to wear them until they fell apart or got too small. He could never understand why the rest of the boys didn’t do the same – the jumpers nearly radiated the love Mrs Weasley had for all of her children and adopted children. In her worldview, any friend of her children was now an adopted child of hers – and they all received a jumper every Yule. This year’s gift was a black jumper edged in emerald and scarlet with a small dragon outlined on the left breast. It was very soft and warm and Harry loved it. He had it pulled over a white shirt with his school tie and, with his hair queued back, emerald glinting in his ear and glasses sparkling in the firelight, he looked quite handsome.

“Are we all ready?” Severus asked, gathering them all in closer. He held out a piece of rope which they all grabbed a bit of, then gasped as one as the Portkey spell took effect.

This time they landed in the lobby of the manor house, Runeskin standing off to the side waiting for them to untangle themselves, as Harry had once again fallen bringing the other three down with him.

“I really need to teach you how to land,” Severus mumbled to his blushing son as he straightened up, brushing non-existent dust off of his jacket.

“Sorry,” Harry murmured back watching in amusement as Draco helped Hermione to her feet, making sure her dress was hanging correctly. She batted his hands away when they strayed too close to forbidden areas, hissing “I’m fine, Draco!”

Runeskin waited patiently as the family sorted themselves then led them to the parlour where Narcissa and Calista were waiting.

Narcissa Black-Malfoy stood graciously, holding a beautiful golden-haired girl in her arms as Severus and the teens approached. Severus walked over, taking the little girl into his arms and leaning over to land a tender kiss on Narcissa’s cheek. He then bestowed a similar buss on the giggling one-year old who threw her arms around her godfather returning his kiss quite wetly causing the entire room to start laughing.

“Well, happy late Birthday, my little princess,” Severus declared, sitting down in his favourite chair and setting the little one on his knee. “Were you a good girl for your mum? Did St Nick bring you lots of delightful presents? Good!” he said as she nodded her head quickly, setting the curls on her head bouncing.

She then slid backwards down off his lap and toddled over to her big brother, lifting her arms up and crying “Dwakie! Tiss!” she demanded. Draco complied, bending down to kiss the toddler on the top of her curls before she went off to steal more kisses from Hermione and Harry.

The evening progressed to dinner then present opening for Calista who squealed at every package she received. She eventually wound down around nine o’clock and Hermione said she would watch the little girl while Severus and Narcissa took a postprandial walk through the conservatory.

He led the aristocrat through the doors into the lush, glass–enclosed space, offering her his arm as they strolled through the warm greenery, the stark contrast of snow falling just on the other side of the glass creating a magical atmosphere.

“How have you been, Cissy – enjoying France?”

“I’ve been worse off – and Calista is a joy to have around. Lucius discovered where I was – stop that!” she threatened when he had stiffened at her news, eyes flashing in dangerous anger. “I didn’t tell you because we were perfectly safe. He can never get in, so don’t even worry. He just figured out where I was when the property disappeared from my accounting books. He can’t see it, all he knows is the general location and he periodically stands outside firing curses at the wards. He’s wasting energy – he can’t do anything,” she scoffed.

“Perhaps I should send you to Italy or Greece – I have relatives in both places, the ward magic is different there...” he suggested.

“Severus, stop it. I’m fine – Calista is fine. I forgot how quickly babies grow and develop...” she said wistfully.

Severus smiled down at his friend. “She has at that. Has it really been over a year?” He shook his head in shock. “How time flies...”

“And how is Harry doing in the tournament? I get the papers in my exile – Rita is up to her usual nastiness, I saw.” Her clipped tones betrayed her annoyance with the reporter. She would never dignify the woman by calling her a journalist.

“I never saw her at the ball, Cissy – I’d love to know how she managed to pull that off.”

“She does manage to be in the most opportune places. Anyway, Harry...?” she prompted.

“So far he is doing well. We still have not discovered how his name got placed in the goblet – I’m beginning to wonder if we ever will – but after the initial despair at being singled out again, he has been dealing with the added responsibility quite well. He has had some run-ins with the Durmstrang champion – a bigoted piece of work who Harry realised was abusing his date to the dance. He and his friends managed to rescue the poor girl, and I’ve had the pleasure of the boy’s company all week for detention for other infractions. This week he is with Filch and next week I get him again.” He smirked evilly and Narcissa laughed at the poor sods plight.

“What else did he do?”

“He was drunk,” he stated shortly. She nodded her head knowingly, leaning into her best friend’s side as they sat in the gazebo on a padded bench and watched the stars finally twinkling through the glass roof above them as the snow slowed down and the clouds pulled away from a gibbous moon.

“And Draco,” she asked after a moment.

“He is doing well also. He’s made many new friends – real friends – in Ravenclaw, and he hangs out with Harry’s contingent. Since the dance, they’ve added a few more to their group; Pansy, for one.”

She raised her eyebrow at this. “Really...”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Cissy. He burst that little bubble at the beginning of term. She actually attended the dance with Harry and they seem to be quite friendly. No, he seems to be casting an eye over Miss Granger.” He delighted in getting the mother to react, and she didn’t disappoint.

After sputtering a bit, she regained her equilibrium. “Well, I can’t disapprove – I did appoint her Calista Marie’s godmother, after all. I guess I just always assumed he would go for a pureblood...” she prevaricated.

“Because that is what he was taught? But he has been going against the norm for quite awhile, Cissy. This is no different. And, I must admit, she challenges him in a way that Pansy never did. Miss Granger does not see him as a rich catch or an advantageous marriage. She sees Draco, and she challenges him to keep up with her. That witch is going places – if she survives being Harry’s friend,” he added darkly. He was a realist and he knew that it was just a matter of time before the Dark Lord rose again, if he hadn’t already and was just biding his time. And anyone connected with his son would be a target.

Narcissa leaned against his side, hugging his arm tightly, lending comfort physically that words could not express adequately. After a moment he leaned down and kissed the crown of her head very gently allowing a little frisson of sentimentality leak through.

“We need to return,” he said quietly. She nodded and let him help her up, standing in the circle of his arms for a moment.

“Thank you, Severus,” she murmured against his chest.

“For what?”

“For letting us be safe, for loving my son and giving him a home and family, for letting me be in his life... for being you.” She lifted her head up, looking him in the eyes with sincerity.

“Cissy, you know if I could...” She silenced him with a finger against his lips.

“I know – and if you get the chance, you have my permission to take him out. He has forfeited any right to these children and to my love. If my father hadn’t constructed the marriage bans the way he had, I’d be able to be free of him and to do what my heart says it wants me to do – to be with you,” she said throatily.

He leaned down and let their lips touch in a bitter-sweet kiss, for just a moment, before releasing her. Sighing, he tucked her arm against his side and led her along the meandering gravel path that returned them to the entrance and a short walk later they arrived back in the Parlour to find the boys playing chess, and Hermione ensconced in a wingback chair, asleep with Calista curled up on her chest. A thumb was wetly tucked in the rosebud mouth and someone had tucked a rug around the pair of them.

“Were we gone that long?” Severus wondered out loud.

Draco snorted as he moved one of his men.

“Over an hour, dad,” Harry supplied the answer before he crowed with delight. “Gotcha! Check and mate!” Draco stared at the board while his queen shook her sceptre at him.

“I must really be tired...” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. He blinked up at his mother. “Have a nice walk?”

“Delightful,” she admitted, smiling back at him as she went to gather up her daughter and gently wake the sleeping godmother. “Come along, poppet, time to go home!” The little girl transferred her snuggling to her mother, closing her eyes again quickly. Severus helped Narcissa on with her cloak, handing a bag to Runeskin with all the shrunken gifts and escorted the pair over to the floo room. He stole one more tender kiss from his friend before throwing a handful of powder into the grate and whispering the name of her destination. He watched her step into the emerald flames and swirl out of sight before returning to the parlour to gather together his own children and return them all to the school.