Draco strongly disliked Christmas. Every year, his mother would invite the richest and snobbiest pureblood families to the Annual Malfoy Eve's Ball, and Draco had definitely had enough with the nonsense. Nobody was there for Christmas; they were just there for the party.

THE BLOODY PARTY!

And the following morning, Draco would always be the one who had to clean up. Last year, he'd gone to his room to go to bed only to find his precious Nimbus 1999 torn to shreds by the troublemaking children that had been thrown in the room because "the grown-ups were busy".

Draco knew that his room was only a daycare because come morning, half the adults wouldn't even remember their own names.

This year, Draco knew he had the option of staying at Hogwarts...but not according to his father.

YESTERDAY

"Draco, it looks like you've got an owl," said Blaise.

Draco turned to his friend. He reached out his hand and said, "Give me the letter."

Blaise untied the note from the owl's leg, but he apparently wasn't doing it fast enough because it started to poke around in Blaise's head.

"Ow! Stop it!" he said, desperately to the bird. "I can't get this bloody letter if you don't stop poking me!"

Draco sighed. He got up from his bed and went over to the window/

"Must be urgent," he said as he took care of the untying, "otherwise I'd've received it at the next meal."

"Well, what's it say?"

Draco unfolded the note and read:

Draco,

I have heard about your first Quidditch game. Congratulations on a job well done. I had thought that you would not be good enough for the team in the first place, but Severus says you have performed exceedingly well. Continue this streak and perhaps you can prove that you are not a squib.

On a different note, my main purpose of writing is because the winter holidays approach. As you know, your mother and I are throwing the Ball once more and you are expected to attend. Ride the Hogwarts train home tomorrow, and we will pick you up from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Your mother will take you shopping for new dress robes.

Your Christmas presents this year will include: a list of resolutions for the following year, your tasks for your second term at Hogwarts, a new set of robes for your second term at Hogwarts, and a flask of pumpkin juice.

Let me know when you receive this,

Your father

"I'll still never understand why your father tells you your presents ahead of time," Blaise said.

"Neither do I. Ugh. I've been waiting for this. I absolutely hate the ball. I mean, come one, Blaise, you know what it's like. Why can't my parents buy a tree and decorate it, like normal parents? As much as I dislike that idea, it's better than the ball."

"Mate, it's not that bad."

"My broom from last year got destroyed!"

"You'd have gotten a new one anyway."

"That's because I'm a Malfoy; I'm expected to have the best and the newest. I honestly don't see the problem with a large family dinner on Christmas Eve. Then on Christmas Day, I could wake up to see a real present. Not some pieces of paper or some juice I would've had for breakfast any other day."

"Take pride, mate. Your parents are teaching you to be polite. That's why you're not spoiled like me."

"Pride in being a Malfoy? I have plenty of pride! I just think it'd be nice to have a family dinner."

"You just want turkey."

"I just want turkey...now, that's only one reason."

"Let's just go to bed."

"Alright, let me reply to my father first."

Draco got out his quill and wrote on the back of his father's letter the following:

Hello, father. Nice to see you're proud of me for once. I'm afraid I will not be attending your ball because it's absolutely ridiculous. If people ask where I am, just say that I'm doing extra credit assignments for Headmaster Dumbledore. Anything is better than that foolish party of yours.

Oh, and have you noticed that I have not written this in the form of a proper letter?

Draco refolded the note and reattached it to the owl.

"You've been here the whole time, haven't you?" Draco rhetorically asked the bird, not expecting a reply. "Here. Take this to my dear father."

Draco had done something he knew he would regret, but he shoved his thoughts and worries away and settled into his bed.

PRESENT DAY

And that was why Draco Malfoy was attending his parents' ball. Because earlier this morning, at breakfast, he'd received a letter from his father.

A letter in a red envelope.

"Draco, you've got a Howler!" Theo pointed out.

"Brilliant," Draco said. "I should have seen this coming."

"Well," Adrian said, "you'd better open it unless you want to die."

Draco rolled his eyes; he wasn't going to die, but he opened it anyway...and braced himself.

DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY,

HOW DARE YOU DEFY YOUR FATHER IN SUCH AN IMPOLITE MANNER? HOW DARE YOU HAVE ENOUGH NERVE TO OPPOSE MY DECISIONS? I FIND IT VERY RUDE THAT YOU DID NOT REPLY IN A PROPER LETTER, BUT EVEN MORE SO BECAUSE YOU FOUND IT AMUSING TO POINT IT OUT! WHETHER OR NOT YOU ENJOY THE CHRISTMAS BALL, YOU WILL BE ATTENDING! DO YOU HEAR ME? I WILL GO TO HOGWARTS MYSELF AND DRAG YOU OUT IF I HAVE TO! AS A PUNISHMENT, I WILL NOT BE GIVING YOU YOUR PRESENTS THIS YEAR. YOU WILL ALSO BE REQUIRED TO FIGURE OUT YOUR RESOLUTIONS AND REQUIREMENTS AS I WILL NO LONGER BE PROVIDING THEM.

NO MALFOY HAS EVER STOOPED SO LOW BEFORE AND I AM ASHAMED THAT YOU WOULD EVER DO SUCH A THING!

DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY, YOU ARE NO SON OF MINE! MENTALLY, OF COURSE, AS I CANNOT DO ANYTHING ABOUT THE BIOLOGICAL PART.

At this last sentence, the whole Great Hall burst out laughing as Draco repeatedly smacked himself in the forehead.

When he rose from the table, all eyes were on him and everyone was silent. He headed for the doors.

"Where are you going?" Blaise asked.

"I leave today and I need to pack." With that, he left the hall.

Blaise watched Potter, Weasley, and Granger approach him.

"What was that all about?" Potter asked.

"I don't see how that's any of your business, Potter," Blaise spat. He hated them almost as much as Draco did, and for the same reasons.

"We just want to know what could cause such a stir in a pureblood's life," Granger answered.

"Well, let's put it this way. Draco's parents throw a Christmas Eve's Ball every year and he absolutely hates them. He needs to be there, though, for the sake of his parents' reputation. Got it, nosies?"

"Well, he didn't have to go," Weasley insisted. "He doesn't need his presents."

Potter sniggered at that.

"How clever of you," Blaise answered sarcastically, "to know so much about his life just by guessing. For your information, Weasel, Draco is informed of his presents ahead of time every year, and do you know what he was supposed to get this year? Two pieces of parchment: one with his resolutions, and another with his requirements; in addition to a set of robes and a flask of pumpkin juice."

Granger and Weasley gawked at Blaise while Potter just said, "It's better than what I've gotten."

"This is his own family, for Merlin's sake! Your Muggle caretakers are just like purebloods in the wizarding world. Muggles hate wizards just as much as purebloods hate Muggles, or some of 'em, anyway."

"Well, he's always gotten what he's wanted, hasn't he?"

"Purebloods are expected to raise their children to not grow up spoiled. They must be polite, have manners, be sophisticated, and calm."

"You know what, then, Zabini?" Potter said, taking in the information. "You're not bad for a Slytherin."

Blaise sighed. "Slytherins aren't what you think they are."

"Then what are they?"

So Blaise told them who he was, who the Slytherins were. And this was how the three Gryffindors befriended a Slytherin, not to mention, Draco Malfoy's best mate.

After Granger had left for the Hogwarts Express, Blaise assumed Draco had as well.

"So do you two want to tell me who this Flamel guy is?" Blaise asked.

A/N: I encourage you all to share this book with your friends, comment, vote, and keep on reading! Thank you all so much!