Draco couldn't sleep. This was nothing new. Sleep and Draco had not been good friends in a long time. Not that Christmas had been the reason for his lack of sleep. He had quite enjoyed the time spent with his mother, and a rather nice gingerbread house now resided in the family room along with the tree and his father's unopened presents.
He'd gone down to the kitchens for some eggnog--with a healthy shot of the manor's finest brandy, of course. Really, he wanted another excuse to look at his and his mother's handiwork, which he took on his way down. He was leaning against one of the tables the elves used for their work, sipping his drink when all the hair at the back of his neck stood on end. He didn't know who it was...but whomever it was probably didn't mean him well.
Thank Merlin he was paranoid enough to always have his wand with him, this time tucked in the pocket of his dressing gown. He closed his hand on it, pulling it out slowly. "Mother?" he called out, though part of him knew that it wasn't her.