Complicated

PROLOGUE: Christmas At The Manor.

Draco Jeremiel Malfoy stared stonily at his bedroom door. It was Christmas today and yesterday his mother had promised his father that she would take him to Diagon Alley to buy him a Christmas present. Obviously his mother had forgotten to buy him a Christmas present. Again.

Draco sighed. Christmas at the Manor was a boring affair. His grandmother always had a Christmas banquet every year when she was alive. He missed his grandmother. She was beautiful. She had long silvery blond hair- just like his hair. She also had a ready smile on her face-so unlike his mother.

He also missed meeting people. Grandmother's banquet were always full of people, laughter and colour. He missed his friends- Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe and Tara McNair. They had so much fun together. He missed them. Here, at the Manor, his days were so dull and unexciting. The only person he could talk to was his father. His mother never really bothered to talk to him.

Draco continued to sulk as he watched the door. His ears perked up when he heard something sweep the floor. 'Must be mother's cloak,' he thought, excited. Seven-year-old Draco was prepared to pout and give his mother the 'puppy-eyed look' when he saw that the person who entered was really not a person at all.

"Dobby?" he whispered, a sad expression on his adorable face. "Where is Mother?" he asked. He was disappointed. He only wanted to spend some time with her. Why did she hate him?

The House-elf glanced uneasily at his young master. "The mistress is gone to see the Mister Karkaroff." Draco merely nodded his head at this, mimicking his father.

"Where is my father?" Draco asked after a moment of silence, looking down at his hands.

"The Mister Malfoy has not returned from his previous meeting, Master Malfoy," Dobby said haltingly, trying to get his English right. His mistress complained ever so often of his bad English.

Dobby was surprised. He was somewhat talking to Draco Malfoy. Malfoy. He knew that his youngest master was not supposed to be talking to him. It was forbidden but a pleasant surprise nonetheless.

"Dobby, would you please tell me if he comes back? I feel so tired. Please bring me a mug of hot cocoa as well. Thank you," he said without bothering to wait for a reply. He closed his eyes and he immediately fell asleep on the chair, leaving a bewildered Dobby staring.

"Did me youngest master say 'please' to Dobby," the House-elf muttered aloud. Eyes brimming with unshed tears; he covered Draco with a blanket before closing the door soundlessly as he exited the room.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lucius Malfoy was finally finished with his chaotic meeting with the Goblins. How he despised those Goblins! They were forever questioning his fortune. 'Where did your family amass such a fortune? How come you were able to double your family fortune so quickly?' they would ask. He hated them. He felt like saying, "Not everyone live for gold like you, you foul creature." Instead he muttered, "Slimy gold-diggers".

He had just bought a property in Muggle London without his wife's knowledge. It was meant for Draco and himself. It was to be their 'hide-out' as the Muggles put it. His son would love it. He hoped Narcissa remembered her promise to buy Draco his Christmas gift.

It was beginning to rain and Lucius hurriedly walked to the nearest shop and in his haste, he had accidentally bumped into his old classmate -and ex-best friend.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Is it the penniless weasel?" Lucius taunted although he felt no pride or secret joy in hurting ex-friend's feelings. Actually, he felt a little sick but he had to continue this stupid facade.

Arthur Weasley glared furiously at Lucius Malfoy. "What are you doing in Diagon Alley, Malfoy? Returning from some visit to Knockturn Alley, are you? My, my, whatever would your mother say, Lucius? She'd probably regret ever giving birth you," he said with obvious contempt in his eyes before walking away proudly in his shabby cloak.

Malfoy watched Arthur's retreating back with an expressionless face. To everyone watching the drama between Lucius and Arthur, it was like some huge game. Some giggled with glee at the torturing Arthur was going to get the next time he crossed swords with Malfoy. Others merely shook their heads and glared at Lucius's back.

But Lucius only watched Arthur leave with one thing in mind, 'I'm sorry, Arthur'.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lucius returned to the Manor late in the afternoon. Lucius shivered slightly as he saw the cold, gray shadows on the walls. It was creepy and Lucius did not like it one bit. Why did he put up with Narcissa's lack of interior designing skills, he did not know. God knows he could afford it.

Lucius spotted a House-elf nearby and decided to see if Narcissa had done as she had promised. Narcissa was not a good wife, but was it too late for her to be a good mother?

Lucius clearly thought so. "Wella, is the mistress here?"

Wella trembled slightly but responded evenly, "No, Master." To this Lucius said nothing but seemed pleased enough. Obviously, he thought Narcissa had lived up to her promise.

"You may go now, Wella."

Lucius studied Wella as she left. Wella belonged with his past. Wella was married to Wags (the Malfoy House-elf) years ago. She belonged to his mother but came to live with him and his family since his mother's death. Wags died not long after his mother's death, leaving Wella alone in the world. Wella had practically brought him up, along with his own mother. It hurt him deeply to see her terrified of him this way. He felt guilty because he was not there for her the way she had been for him.

The sound of small feet behind him startled him out of his reverie. Turning around, Lucius saw Draco standing tall (as tall as any seven year old was) although he wore a hopeful expression. "Is mother with you, Father?" Draco asked eagerly.

Lucius narrowed his eyes as he contemplated the question. Did that mean that Narcissa had not done as she had promised? 'Narcissa, you really are the female version of Narcissus,' Lucius thought. Lucius pitied his son. How did his son ever put up with this old mausoleum, and that worthless excuse for a mother? Especially on Christmas? No way!

"Son, I have a surprise for you. Come on," Lucius said cheerfully, trying to lift his son's spirit. "It's Christmas for God's sake. I'm not having you locked up in here."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lucius returned to the manor with his son late in the evening. Lucius was proud of himself as he surveyed Draco's flushed cheeks and bright eyes. He could even feel happiness radiating from Draco.

Today, he had bought Draco the newest broom on the market- the Comet Two-Fifty. They played a bit of Quidditch and visited Muggle London. Now that was where the fun was.

Lucius first brought Draco to the Muggle theme park. They had ridden the teacups, roller coaster (well, sort of-it's for children as well as adults kinda thing), the flying jet, and pirate ship and so much more. He had taken Draco in a taxi to the video arcade before bringing him to see a Muggle film.

Draco had been astonished by what the Muggles had achieved. He loved their way of life although he could not understand how they coped without magic. He especially loved the muggle series: Bewitched.

Draco thought he had seen it all when his father suddenly brought him to see his newly acquired property. Draco had been ecstatic when he saw it. It had all the Muggle conveniences plus Draco favourite portrait of his grandmother on the wall.

Seeing that Narcissa was not back yet (Lucius's jaw tightened murderously when he heard this), he opted to have a private dinner outside in the gardens with his son.

All in all, it was the best Christmas the two Malfoys had had in a long time and in a long time to come.