Chapter 51: A Christmas Invitation
In the dark halls of Malfoy Manor, the sting of mockery was a bitter pill. Lucius Malfoy held his wife Narcissa's hand tightly, their silent solidarity a fragile shield against the contempt of the other Death Eaters.
"It's alright, Lucius," Narcissa whispered, her voice barely audible. "You came home alive. That is what matters."
Lucius gave her hand a faint squeeze. He said nothing. To die bravely in battle would have spared him this humiliation, but it would have left his family alone and unprotected among these wolves. For Narcissa and Draco, he could bear the scorn. He swallowed the shame, letting the sneers wash over him in silence.
Days later, in the warmth of the Gryffindor common room, the fire crackled softly. Elian rubbed his tired eyes, slumped on a sofa. He'd been sound asleep until Ron had shaken him awake, saying Hermione was waiting and wouldn't take no for an answer.
Beside him, Hermione Granger sat stiffly, a storm of emotions on her face—worry, frustration, and burning curiosity.
"Hermione," Elian yawned. "What time is it? Why did Ron have to drag me down here?"
"You can still sleep?" Hermione retorted, her voice sharp with concern. "After everything? What really happened in Hogsmeade? You knew, didn't you? You knew the Death Eaters were coming for you. That's why you asked Harry where an ambush would happen!"
She leaned forward, her words rapid. "And five Death Eaters, Elian! Five. How?"
Elian ran a hand through his hair. She was too clever by half. She'd pieced it all together from a few careless words. If she could see it, Dumbledore certainly would. They probably just couldn't fathom his true motives, chalking it up to reckless daring.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, another yawn half-faking his exhaustion. "I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Hmph." Hermione crossed her arms, unconvinced. "Do you expect anyone to believe that?"
But looking at his weary, closed-off expression, she knew she'd get no answers tonight. It was like trying to pry the secrets of Kama-Taj from him all over again.
She sighed, the fight leaving her. "Professor McGonagall said… the Headmaster has been away. He'll want to speak with you when he returns."
She stood to leave, then paused, not looking at him. "Don't… don't face things like that alone next time. If you can tell someone… you could at least tell me. I could help you think it through."
With that, she headed for the girls' staircase, leaving Elian in the flickering firelight.
Her words left a strange silence in their wake. Things were getting more complicated. Trelawney's prophecy had undoubtedly painted a target on his back for Voldemort, who was obsessed with such things. The Dark Lord would be watching him even more closely now.
The Ministry saw him as Dumbledore's problem. The Order of the Phoenix would be suspicious. There was no more quiet, anonymous life at Hogwarts.
Thanks, system, he thought wryly, leaning his head back against the sofa. So much for a quiet year.
Time moved on, the tension gradually buried under routine and homework. Before anyone realized it, the castle grew colder, decorations appeared, and the buzz of Christmas filled the air.
One afternoon, Hermione found him in the library. She looked unusually flustered, her cheeks pink, avoiding his eyes.
"Hermione?" Elian asked, closing his book. "What is it?"
After a moment of fidgeting, she blurted it out in a rush. "Elian… about Christmas… Do you have plans? My… my parents… they were wondering… I mean, I was wondering… if you'd like to come to my house for the holiday?"
(End of Chapter)
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