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A very Malfoy Christmas.
A very Malfoy Christmas. 1. describe your character's bedroom in the form of a drabble. Christmas Day night, Malfoy Manor;
Draco L. Malfoy - age thirteen.
Holidays at the Malfoy Mansion were always something to look forward to for Draco, although he didn't really have too many friends his age (at least not ones that he could truly say were genuinely his friends because they wanted to be, more like, because their parents knew each other, and well, the children had no other choice but to mingle with each other as well), he did have many expensive gifts to keep him company. And when one had material things, who needed actual friends, really?
Once the festivities were over, Malfoy ascended the staircase towards his bedroom; pushing the door open and entering. Immediately, his eyes scanned the vastness of his room, watching as the shadows of the lit fireplace danced upon the slate gray walls, contorting in places where exposed stone peaked through. One would say his room was far too spacious for an only child, but Draco needed all the space that he could have. Besides, he enjoyed having a big room. He would never have to worry about running out of space or having to move anything out of it to make room for more.
He could have all that he wanted, and always have the space he needed to move around freely. Draco liked it this way. He couldn't imagine himself living in anything smaller.
"Lumos!" he uttered, waving his wand; he brought his room to complete brightness. The sconces on the walls flickered to life and the five-armed ornate chandelier that hung from the middle of his ceiling joined them - glass and pewter glittering against itself. His room itself was elegant in decor, it surely reflected his riches and the privileges of being a Malfoy. It was nice and tidy, everything seemed in perfect place - thanks to his house elves, of course.
Draco, himself, wasn't a very neat person, despite his appearances. Why, earlier this morning his room was a mess, socks thrown about, toys and others things left out of place. But, he wasn't one for manual labor. He would never dream of having to pick up after himself. That's what the elves were for. Someone of his caliber would never be caught lifting a finger to do such a thing as housework, not a single finger... except to check for dust of course...
Draco's thin index pressed to the top of his vanity, dragging it along its surface, before bringing it close to his face. Gray orbs gazed at his finger closely, narrowing his eyes to inspect and making sure that not a single speck of dirt would be seen atop the tip of his perfectly clean finger; for if he spotted some, he would have to let his father know of the incompetence and that house elf would have to be punished for doing a horrible job at cleaning. Some would call such a thing cruel, but was it really? That's what house elves were meant to do. They prided themselves in such work, didn't they? And so there was no room for mistakes. A house elf that made mistakes, was a useless house elf.
Draco rubbed his fingers together and perked a brow, "Hm." He frowned slightly, almost disappointed that there was nothing there for him to complain about. Not a speck of dust, nothing at all. Although he was glad to know that his room was spotless, it was much to his dismay that he wouldn't get to see someone else in trouble. The misfortune of others usually brought him joy, but perhaps some other time? For now, he had a ton of new and shiny gifts to play with and find joy with.
He sauntered towards the pile of opened gifts that had been transported to a corner of his room and he grabbed a small matte black box that was placed on top of the other gifts; he opened it and admired the silvery ring with an onyx stone that was inside, a smirk on his face. Parkinson had good taste. However, he wasn't surprised that she knew him so well. She was quite the observant one. There was never a gift from her that he disliked. Draco slipped the ring onto his right ring finger, before tossing the empty box aside and turning his attention back to the pile, grabbing the biggest box and carrying it with him towards his four-poster bed. Most of his gifts from his parents had been opened earlier, but there were others that came afterwards from family members and acquaintances, along with letters that he had to go through and read.
Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a chocolate frog, unwrapping it and stuffing it into his mouth.
It was going to be a long night, but he wasn't complaining.
And why would he? Spoiled with so many gifts that he'd have to be up all night if he was going to go through all of them.
Draco loved Christmas.
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