There had been a time, Draco knew, when this season had been his favorite. His birthday had always been his favorite day when he was younger, though he always got sunburned in June, and there was a definite romantic appeal to the cold and dark outside, with the warmth of fires and hot drinks and company inside. He had enjoyed his Christmas well enough, spending it in France with his family, as they all pretended to be carefree, and managed it, to an extent.
But for some inexplicable reason, Draco hadn't been sleeping well. He couldn't have said why, except that he kept waking from a dream he couldn't remember, feeling as though he was being watched even as he slept. It made his skin crawl. Perhaps it was because he now had the possibility of company at night, but had been putting that off; he had managed not to have any nightmares on the one night Pansy had stayed over, but if that was luck and not her presence, he wasn't sure if he was ready for her to see him in that state. Come daylight, he was composed, though there were slight circles beginning under his eyes from a few days of sleep deprivation, and very little in his stomach, because he couldn't quite summon interest in food, especially at breakfast time.
He had always thought that if he managed to get Pansy back, it would reduce his stress. It did brighten his mood, but that wasn't quite the same. It was a different kind of stress, more for him to think about, even though he had relaxed somewhat in her presence.
Apparating to her new flat, he straightened from the landing and looked around. It was a nice place, though he could tell that she wasn't entirely finished setting it up yet. Not catching a glimpse of her, he called out, "Pans?"