That was probably the most upsetting Christmas at the Grey Family.
The following year, Vid stayed at Hogwarts to attend the Christmas ball and didn't return home. So, that Christmas, the couple hastily prepared a turkey and a fairly lavish dinner, but there wasn't any festive atmosphere.
Dobby still remembers that at the dinner table, nearly every sentence was about Vid. The Pea of Communication ringing was the happiest moment for them.
This was the first Christmas they truly spent together.
He personally wrapped the balls and paper stars on the tree, and he arranged the tassels on the chandelier. Though they were a bit uneven, in the warm light, these decorations seemed to breathe and laugh.
The angel on the tree gently flapped its wings, the air was filled with the sweet scent of baked gingerbread, and the twinkling lights reflected in eyes as large as tennis balls.
Suddenly, he remembered how many years ago — when Dobby was still at the Malfoy family's place, the Christmas feast they prepared was more extravagant, and the manor's decorations were more splendid.
But the festivities, food, and scenery belonged only to the Malfoy family. As house-elves, they could only hide in the dark cellar or kitchen, ready at any time to provide "invisible" service to the masters above. Any inadequacy would be mercilessly punished.
For them, Christmas decorations merely signified "untouchable" — they couldn't break the thin, fragile crystal ornaments, couldn't disturb the arrangement angles of the silver filigree, couldn't let their dirty, ugly shadows mar the dazzling scenery.
The fire in the hearth crackled, Dobby lowered his head, rubbed his moist eyes, and murmured softly, "It's really nice... really beautiful..."
Fiona, who originally planned to turn off the lights, put down her hand upon seeing him like this and said:
"Let's leave the lights on! Turn them off only before we go to sleep. On Christmas Day, let's keep them on all night! Now, it's time for dinner!"
The dinner was the result of joint efforts by Dobby and the three Little Demonic Puppets — roasted chicken, pizza, vegetable salad, and a broth that simmered for half a day.
Fiona praised each little fellow who contributed their efforts:
"Dobby's roast chicken skin is particularly crispy! Coco's salad dressing is just right! Ali's mashed potatoes are delicious! Did Reina fold a swan out of napkins? So elegant!"
Seeing the house-elves and Little Demonic Puppets so excited and happy from the praises, the corners of Vid's mouth also turned up in a warm smile.
After eating and drinking to their fill, Fiona hurriedly moved to the living room sofa, turned on the Flow Mirror, and tuned in to her favorite show "Potter's Patter," occasionally bursting into giggles.
Dobby and Coco were busy in the kitchen, with the sound of clinking tableware being tidied away.
Ferdinand then took out chilled Potter wine and two glasses, gestured to Vid, and walked over to the small table by the fire.
Only one wall lamp was on here, its orange-yellow glow casting warmth and softness onto the carpet. The wood in the fireplace emitted slight crackling sounds, and laughter from the talk show's audience occasionally came from the Flow Mirror.
Father and son sat in the armchairs, and Ferdinand poured two glasses of amber-colored wine, handing one to Vid.
"Have a taste," he said, sipping his first. His face showing an appreciative expression: "No wonder it's a brand chosen by Fornan Mason, the quality is impeccable."
Vid sniffed the aroma first, then took a sip. The wine was smooth, with a pronounced sweetness and almost no noticeable alcohol burn.
After taking two more sips, Ferdinand casually began talking about matters at the company:
"...those young people lately have been talking about the internet, saying in the future, there's no need for mailboxes, they'll all send emails. They're even starting to send electronic greeting cards, shortening 'Merry Christmas' to 'Mery Xmas'."
"Honestly, the world has been changing faster over these years... so fast it's a bit hard to keep up. I am even preparing to find a professor from the university to learn how to take company operations online..."
While he was speaking, Vid slowly drank half a glass of wine as well.
The wine carried a hint of roasted walnuts, its taste better than expected. After half a glass, a warmth rose from deep within his body, gradually spreading to his limbs, giving his nerves a slightly intoxicated relaxation.
Ferdinand talked for a while before realizing his son hadn't responded at all.
He turned his head, seeing Vid leaning back in the chair, holding his glass, his gaze a bit distant as he blankly stared at the flames in the fireplace.
Even in a relaxed state, Vid's eyebrows seemed habitually furrowed slightly, as if he was always pondering some unresolvable issue.
Could it be... he's drunk?
Ferdinand found it hard to believe.
He looked at his son, then at the bottle, even doubting if he'd picked up the wrong one by mistake.
Then, Ferdinand placed down his glass and silently watched his son for a while.
Looking at that extremely young, yet often overly serene face, and those creases that the warm yellow firelight failed to smooth out completely, a familiar, complex emotion blended with pride and heartache surged within him.
"Vid."
Ferdinand's voice was soft, as if afraid of startling something: "Are you... very tired?"
Vid seemed to take a few seconds to realize his father was speaking.
He slowly nodded slightly, then shook his head.
"Tired... it's self-inflicted," Vid mumbled, "I don't want to stand on the bridge... but if others go up, it'll only get worse..."
"Bridge?" Ferdinand didn't understand: "What bridge?"
But Vid didn't explain, just shook his head, his gaze becoming more unfocused, and his body started to slouch down.
Ferdinand knew his son was genuinely drunk, and rather quickly too — perhaps he let his guard down knowing the house was absolutely safe?
Ferdinand sighed, put down his glass, stood up, walked to his son's side, and helped him up by the arm, saying:
"Alright, that's enough for tonight. I'll help you to your room to rest."
Vid didn't resist, succumbing to his father's guidance, he staggered upstairs to his bedroom and fell asleep immediately.
Ferdinand helped him remove his shoes and jacket, pulled over the thick quilt, and carefully tucked him in.
Just as he was about to leave, a hand suddenly reached out from under the blanket and grabbed his wrist.
Vid opened his eyes in a daze, slowly saying, "Dad, I want...to make some renovations to the house, is that okay?"
"Renovations?" Ferdinand was a bit surprised: "Renovations for what?"
"Safety measures..." Vid mumbled with his head buried in the pillow, "It needs to be safer..."
Ferdinand paused, then a bittersweet warmth filled his heart.
He leaned over, using his other free hand, gently smoothing Vid's slightly messy hair on top, and said softly:
"Of course you can, Vid... this is your home, whatever you want to do, Dad and Mom will support you."
The moment he finished speaking, he saw the grip on his wrist loosen, Vid's eyes fully closed, his breathing became steady and long, as he peacefully drifted into sleep.
Ferdinand stayed by the bed for a while, silently.
In the faint light from outside the window, he gazed at his son's sleeping profile.
That face, stripped of its wakeful calmness and detachment, with long eyelashes casting faint shadows below closed eyes, a straight nose, and slightly pursed lips, still vaguely reminded him of the quiet, sweet, and cute child he once was.
He felt as if his son had never grown up, looking exactly the same asleep as he did before;
Yet he also wished his son never grew up, so he wouldn't have to face those storms which furrowed his brows;
But he knew, Vid had grown up. Grown faster and further than they imagined.
Ferdinand gently sighed, tucked in the quilt edges for his son, silently exited the room, and quietly closed the door.