Malfoys

The train came to a slow stop, the final lurch signalling the arrival at King's Cross. He grabbed his bag and made his way out onto the platform, the chill of the winter air biting against his face. Crowds of students hurried to their families, eager for the holiday break. Draco was by his side, his expression eager as he scanned the crowd.

"There they are!" Draco exclaimed, spotting his parents near the barrier. 

Lucius Malfoy stood tall and regal, his cold eyes scanning the crowd, while Narcissa, with her softer but still commanding presence, waved him over. 

Draco motioned for Damian to follow, and he approached cautiously, his mind replaying everything he knew about Lucius Malfoy. As they reached them, Draco turned and gestured to Damian. "Mother, Father, this is Damian Black."

Narcissa's eyes softened as she smiled at him. "Damian, it's lovely to finally meet you. You must call me Aunt Cissa." Her warmth was genuine, but he could still feel Lucius's gaze on him, assessing, calculating.

Lucius nodded in greeting, his expression unreadable. "Damian," he said in a low voice, "it's good to have you with us for the holidays."

Damian nodded in return, keeping his posture respectful, though a sense of unease lingered.

"Damian, I am sure you will enjoy your Christmas here," Narcissa said, "We've just had word about the Ministry's annual Christmas Eve Ball. It's quite the grand affair, and we'll be attending this year. We thought it best to take you to Madam Malkin's for some proper dress robes."

Lucius nodded in agreement, his tone calm but authoritative. "The ball will be filled with important figures, and your attire must be fitting for the occasion."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "A ball? So soon after school ends?"

Narcissa smiled, gently steering the conversation as they apparate to the Leaky Cauldron and made their way toward Diagon Alley. "Yes, and you'll need something that suits you. I believe Madam Malkin will have several options. You should choose something that reflects your taste."

They soon reached Diagon Alley, the cobblestone street buzzing with activity as shoppers hurried about. As they entered Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, the air was filled with the faint scent of fabric and the clinking sound of silver needles working on various robes.

A polite assistant approached them, ready to help. "May I know what you are looking for sir?" she asked with a welcoming smile.

"Yes. I am here to order some ball robes," Damian replied, scanning the shop. "I want something with dark green tones, but subtle... elegant. "

The assistant nodded, quickly pulling a selection of robes in various styles. "We have a few that might suit you—dark green with silver accents, classic cuts, and a modern, sharp fit."

After considering his options, Damian settled on a set of robes that particularly caught his eye—a deep, forest green robe with silver linings along the edges, finely detailed but not too ornate. The silver gave a refined contrast to the dark green, the two colours subtly interwoven into the fabric. Draco chose a bit more royal type with purple robes that had golden linings to give it an edge.

Narcissa smiled approvingly. "An excellent choice. It will certainly make a statement at the ball." 

"Shall we return home? I believe you have procured everything required for the evening," Lucius inquired, his tone measured and precise, as was his custom.

"Yes dear," Narcissa replied, holding Draco's hand while Damian held Lucius's.

Within seconds, they were gone, the cold air of the platform replaced by the stately warmth of Malfoy Manor. The grand entryway was bathed in soft, glowing light, and the opulence of the place was undeniable. It was a different world, one steeped in centuries of wealth and power. Damian had expected luxury, but even this surpassed what he had imagined.

After settling in, the evening began with tea in the drawing room. He sat across from Lucius and Narcissa, the crackling fire filling the brief silences. Narcissa started the conversation, asking about Damian's classes. "How has your first term been, Damian? I've heard you've excelled, particularly in duelling."

"I've enjoyed it," he replied, keeping his tone measured. "Professor Flitwick has been a brilliant mentor. He's taught me a lot, and duelling has become something I look forward to."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Flitwick is a capable wizard, though perhaps too lenient at times. It's good you're learning under him, but I hope you're also receiving a broader education beyond mere duelling."

Damian nodded, though the undertone of Lucius's words wasn't lost on him. "Yes, the other classes are going well too. Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts… they're all challenging in their own ways."

Narcissa leaned forward, her voice lighter. "And what about your life before Hogwarts, Damian? Draco mentioned you grew up in a Muggle orphanage."

He paused for a moment, sensing the shift in the conversation. "Yes, I did," he said carefully, aware of their disdain for Muggles. "It wasn't as bad as it sounds. The people there were kind. Though, I admit, I missed the magic."

Lucius's expression soured ever so slightly. "Muggles, kind? Perhaps by their own standards. But they remain ignorant and simple-minded."

Narcissa nodded in agreement. "I can't imagine it was easy for you, growing up without the proper environment for your heritage."

Damian didn't entirely disagree with them, but he wasn't about to voice his more tolerant views. Instead, he stayed neutral. "They don't understand our world, that's true. But they manage in their own ways."

Lucius gave him a long, appraising look before speaking again. "It's good you're here now, Damian, surrounded by your own kind. There's much for you to learn."

He simply nodded, sensing that it was better to leave his thoughts unsaid.

"Dobby, show Damian his room." Lucius ordered the ever favourite elf in Harry Potter.

Dobby guided me to a well set room that was Luxurious in all ways. The journey here tired Daiman so he just fell asleep as soon as he hit the bed.

Damian arrived at the grand Ministry ballroom alongside Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, feeling the weight of the magical society's eyes upon them. The ballroom was breathtaking—polished marble floors and crystal chandeliers that reflected the soft glow of enchanted candles. The room buzzed with the chatter of prominent wizarding families, each gathered in their finest robes. Damian immediately recognized several of the families: the Bones, the Notts, the Greengrasses, and the Parkinsons, many of whom had children attending Hogwarts with him.

Lucius, ever the figure of authority and composure, led the way toward the key figures of the event. Damian found himself standing before Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, who greeted the group with his usual wide, awkward smile. "Ah, Lucius, Narcissa, Draco! So good to see you!" Fudge beamed, his voice slightly louder than necessary. "Enjoying the ball, I trust?" His eyes then shifted toward Damian, his smile growing as though he were addressing someone of great importance. "This must be Damian Black. Your arrival has certainly caused quite a stir—quite the surprise to many of us."

Damian gave a polite nod, his face a perfect mask of respect. "Minister Fudge, it's an honour to meet you," he began, his voice deliberately measured and respectful. "I've heard much about your leadership during these times. It must be an incredible responsibility, maintaining order in such uncertain circumstances." 

Fudge's chest visibly puffed with pride at the compliment, clearly enjoying the flattering words from the young heir of a prominent family. "Oh, well, yes, it's quite the task, indeed. But we manage. The support of influential families like yours makes all the difference, of course."

Damian nodded again, not missing a beat. "The Ministry has been fortunate to have such capable hands at the helm," he said, continuing to layer his words with subtle praise, his tone never crossing into obsequiousness but hovering just close enough to stroke Fudge's ego.

Fudge grinned, almost giddy with the respect he was receiving from someone as young yet as important as Damian. "Well, I do what I can, of course," Fudge said, his voice dripping with self-satisfaction. Then he looked sympathetical. " I know you have been through a lot, my boy. But the Black family name is one that carries great weight. I'm sure we'll be seeing much more of you, young Damian."

Damian smiled politely and thought. Why did he look sympathetical anyway? Maybe he would be thinking about my life in the orphanage. "I hope to contribute to the wizarding world in meaningful ways, Minister," he replied smoothly. "And to continue the legacy that the Black family has upheld."

"Yes, yes, quite!" Fudge exclaimed, clearly pleased. "The Ministry always welcomes such dedication."

What a dumb Buffoon of a minister have we got. This guy if continued this way would be disastrous. The books gave me his clear character. But I never thought it would be so true. Even Lucius, standing beside Damian, watched the exchange with a hint of amusement, though his own expression remained aloof. Narcissa stood gracefully beside him, her face unreadable but her poise perfect. Damian knew she was carefully observing every word exchanged.

With another smile and a few more pleasantries, Fudge moved on to greet other guests, leaving Damian feeling a mixture of triumph and distaste. He had played his part, sugar-coating his words just enough to inflate Fudge's sense of importance, but without compromising his own pride. The Minister, oblivious to Damian's internal thoughts, seemed all too satisfied with the interaction.

Damian gave a polite nod before being introduced to Amelia Bones, head of the Auror Office, whose stern yet fair reputation preceded her. She greeted him with a firm handshake, her eyes showing a mixture of curiosity and respect. Next to her was Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge, whose head-to-toe pink outfit made Damian grimace internally. Her overly sweet voice grated on him, and for a moment, he had to fight the urge to roll his eyes or turn away. 

"So nice to meet you, dear boy," Umbridge cooed in that syrupy voice, which Damian found nauseating. It took everything in him to smile politely and nod. Even her voice is nauseous. No wonder she is the most hated character in the Harry Potter books.

As the evening progressed, the music started, and the ballroom filled with swirling couples. Damian, who wasn't particularly keen on the social aspects of events like this, nevertheless found himself drawn into several dances. First, Susan Bones, a friendly face from Hogwarts, stepped up and smiled, offering her hand for a dance. Damian accepted, keeping the conversation light, though he found the rhythm and formalities of the dance more engaging than the words exchanged.

Pansy Parkinson, ever eager to engage with her fellow Slytherins, made sure to secure a dance as well. She chatted about school and Slytherin politics as they moved across the ballroom floor, though Damian kept most of his responses curt. He preferred to observe rather than indulge in Pansy's gossip.

Soon, the Greengrass sisters, Daphne and Astoria, each took their turn to dance with Damian. When it was Daphne's turn, the atmosphere between them was notably relaxed and familiar. Being one of Damian's best friends, their connection went beyond mere formalities. They moved in sync across the ballroom floor, their conversation as effortless as the flow of the music. 

"So, enjoying the evening?" Daphne asked, her usual calm demeanour complemented by a playful smirk.

Damian gave a slight nod. "It's tolerable," he said, with a teasing undertone. "Though, I suppose it's more enjoyable when you don't have to deal with Umbridge's voice."

Daphne chuckled softly. "You're not wrong. I almost feel like turning my wand on myself when she speaks."

Their banter was a natural extension of the close bond they shared. They didn't need to impress each other or overthink their words.

As they danced, they exchanged insights about the other attendees, casually analysing the social dynamics of the room like seasoned players in a game of chess. They laughed quietly at some of the absurdities they observed.

When the dance ended, Daphne gave Damian a knowing look. "Try not to fall asleep while dancing with Astoria," she teased.

Damian smirked. "I'll try, but no promises."

Astoria, though younger, brought a different energy to the evening. Her witty remarks and lighthearted jokes made Damian chuckle. She was, in many ways, the opposite of her older sister—more carefree, with a sharp sense of humour that kept everyone on their toes. Though their dynamic was less serious, Damian enjoyed Astoria's company, too. It provided a nice contrast to the formality of the event and the more weighty discussions with Daphne. Damian briefly met with Daphne's parents during this ball.

By the end of the night, Damian had navigated the social waters of the Ministry ball with precision. He had met the key figures, danced with some of the most notable young witches, and remained largely unruffled by the superficiality of the event. He was more focused on observing, watching how people moved, and what alliances they were forming. This ball, after all, was about much more than just dancing—it was a glimpse into the currents of power in the wizarding world.

The next morning, Draco woke him up early, eager to get outside. "Come on, Damian! I promised I'd take you out for some Quidditch practice. You can't come to Malfoy Manor and not fly."

"Quidditch?" Damian hesitated, memories of his earlier conversations about flying flashing through his mind. "I'm not really a fan of flying on brooms."

"Come on, Damian. Just give it a shot. It's freeing!" Draco insisted, his excitement infectious.

With a reluctant smile, Damian nodded. "Alright, I'll try."

They played for an hour or two. Damian had to admit that flying, whether on a broom or without, was great, especially the sense of freedom it gave.

Christmas morning arrived with the promise of gifts and warmth. Damian carefully arranged a small box of sweets for Lucius and Narcissa, unsure of what else to give them. As he handed it over, Narcissa's eyes sparkled with delight. "How thoughtful, Damian! Thank you."

In return, he received a collection of gifts: Flitwick had given him books on duelling and some equipment; Daphne had sent a self-dictating quill made from Augury feather and a rare green ink; Blaise had gifted him a sharp obsidian dagger; Tracey had surprised him with a wizarding chess set; and Draco had presented him with a golden watch—his father's gift, Damian presumed, though Draco never mentioned it.

After enjoying the holidays, it was time to return to Hogwarts. As they made their way to the train station, the atmosphere was bittersweet.

Narcissa turned to him, her expression earnest. "Damian, why don't you consider staying with us during the holidays? I'm sure Draco would love to have a friend over."

He hesitated, the thought tempting but complex. "I appreciate the offer, Aunt Cissa, but I can't stay entirely during the holidays. I have plans to refurbish the Black Manor, but I'd love to visit from time to time."

She nodded, understanding. "Of course, dear. You're always welcome here."

With a final wave, he boarded the train and soon the train pulled away from the platform.