Chapter 1039
Christmas Decorations
Chapter 1039 Christmas Decorations
Ferdinand couldn't quite describe how he felt.
Perhaps in that instant, he suddenly glimpsed the danger and loneliness that Wade carried in another world; or perhaps it was the deep guilt and self-blame of a father who was powerless to help his son bear the heavy burden on his shoulders.
He unconsciously clenched his fists on his knees.
Just then, the boy looked up, his eyes crinkling into a smile.
"Ah, the cake's here," Wade said cheerfully. "I'm starving."
Ferdinand was slightly taken aback, and couldn't help but smile as well.
He didn't ask anything, but simply reached out and placed Wade's coffee in front of him, saying gently, "Have something hot first."
“Okay.” Wade picked up his coffee cup and smiled. “Thank you, Dad.”
……
In the afternoon, the family went to Fortnam Mason, a store that has long supplied groceries to the British Royal Family and has a Royal Warrant. Naturally, the prices are extremely high, and many people only go to this department store when giving gifts.
If it weren't for Christmas, and given that her family's financial situation was improving, Fiona wouldn't be willing to shop at places like this.
Looking at the prices on the tags, she adopted the air of a master chef preparing for state banquets, solemnly selecting each item:
The dish features a well-marbled turkey, top-quality smoked salmon from Scotland, a variety of dried fruits and preserves for making pies, and a Christmas-limited pudding-flavored black tea.
Ferdinand also carefully selected a bottle of tawny port, and finally picked it up, winking at Wade:
"Let's have something nice for dinner tonight. You're all grown up now, you can have a couple of drinks with Dad."
“…Wine?” Wade’s gaze fell on the amber-colored bottle as he hesitated.
"Don't worry, this is brown port. It's not very strong and has a smooth taste. Even minors can have a couple of glasses."
Ferdinand handed the bottle to the waiter who was serving him, then looked at his son and said encouragingly:
"When you go to parties in the future, you can't just drink juice or cola all the time, right? You should learn to drink a little in moderation."
Wade thought for a moment, then nodded and said, "Okay."
Although he felt that people should respect the limitations of their physiological functions, he had heard that alcohol tolerance could be improved through practice... Maybe it really is possible?
……
It was almost afternoon when she got home, but Fiona showed no sign of resting and instead decided to put up the Christmas decorations with great energy.
Christmas is just two days away!
The woman of the house, as if going into battle, tied a triangular scarf around her head, clapped her hands, and raised her voice:
"At least we need to set up the lights and wreaths first, otherwise people will think we're not planning to celebrate this year if they see our house looking bare!"
As she spoke, she opened the bag and took out the tangled colorful lights, golden bells, and holly wreaths, issuing commands in a clear, crisp voice.
Ferdinand and Wiede then began moving the ladder around, climbing up and down, and hanging up all sorts of decorations.
Dobby, like a nimble squirrel, quickly climbed onto the crystal chandelier in the living room, wiping each crystal until it shone brilliantly with a cloth, and then hung the long golden tassels on the lamp arm.
The three little puppets—Coco, Ali, and Lena—were also busy.
Coco carried the enormous string of lights and ran around the Christmas tree, hanging them all up.
Ali, holding a golden bell, hung upside down, swaying precariously as he clung to a tree branch.
And there's Lena, who is using her slender little hands to stick pre-cut snowflakes onto the clean glass window, arranging them into beautiful patterns.
Fiona was like a vibrant flame, tirelessly directing everyone to move, her eyes focused on at least three places simultaneously, occasionally exclaiming in surprise:
"Oh, no! That wreath can't be on the fireplace! It should be placed by the door!"
"My God, Dobby, you're a genius! You did a fantastic job!"
"Lena! Honey, could you cut out some more little star-shaped candy wrappers? We'll use them to decorate the chocolate truffles!"
Because of her, the festival truly became a "festival." With boundless energy and unreserved joy, she transformed all sorts of trivial matters into a ritual in which the whole family participated, making everyone eagerly anticipate the arrival of the festival.
Vader didn't use any magic to speed things up, although he could make everything fly to where it was if he wanted to, with a wave of his wand.
He was enjoying the moment:
Standing on the ladder, the father carefully secured the ribbons as instructed by the mother, occasionally asking uncertainly, "Is this high enough?"
Fiona, holding onto the ladder, looked up and shouted, "Move a little more to the left... Yes, this spot! Be careful, don't fall!"
Dobby hummed a tune out of tune, while Coco and Ali, the two little ones, were fighting over the biggest crystal star, shouting:
"I'll hang it!"
"Let me hang it!"
After placing the star securely on top of the Christmas tree, Fiona ran to the wall and pressed the switch.
In an instant, all the colorful lights in the room lit up, their shimmering glow reflecting off every smiling face. The Christmas tree resembled a luminous pagoda, breathtakingly beautiful.
Dobby stared wide-eyed, mouth agape, exclaiming, "Wow..."
This was his third Christmas at the Gray family home.
In his first year, before he was employed by the Gray family, he had only just met Wade's parents. Because Wade had disappeared before the holiday, no one was in the mood for celebration, and the couple waited anxiously every day, while Dobby ran around trying to find out what was going on.
That was probably the saddest Christmas for the Gray family.
The following year, Wade stayed at Hogwarts for the Christmas ball and didn't go home. So that Christmas, the couple only prepared a simple turkey and a fairly lavish dinner, but there was no festive atmosphere at all.
Dobby remembers that at the dinner table, they talked about Wade almost every other sentence. Their happiest moments were when the communicator rang.
This was their first Christmas together.
He personally tied the colorful balls and paper stars to the tree, and he arranged the tassels on the chandelier. Although they were hung a bit unevenly, in the warm light, these decorations seemed to be breathing and laughing.
The angel on the tree gently swayed its wings, the air was filled with the sweet aroma of roasted gingerbread, and the lights flickered, reflecting in its tennis ball-sized eyes.
He suddenly remembered many years ago—when Dobby was still with the Malfoys, their Christmas dinner was much more extravagant, and the manor was more lavishly decorated.
But the excitement, the delicious food, and the beautiful scenery belong only to the Malfoys; these house-elves are confined to the dark cellars or kitchens, always ready to provide "invisible" services to their masters above. Any shortcomings in their conduct are met with cruel punishment.
For them, Christmas decorations simply mean "not to be touched"—not to break those thin and fragile crystal ornaments, not to mess up the angle of the silver fluff, and not to let their dirty and ugly figures ruin the dazzling beauty.
The fireplace crackled, and Dobby lowered his head, rubbing his large, moist eyes, murmuring softly, "It's so nice...it's so beautiful..." Fiona, who was about to turn off the light, saw him like this and lowered her hand, saying:
"Let the lights stay on! We'll turn them off before we go to bed. On Christmas Day, we'll leave them on all night! Now, it's time for dinner!"
Dinner was the result of Dobby and the three little puppets' joint efforts—roast chicken, pizza, vegetable salad, and meat soup that had been simmering for most of the day.
Fiona praised each of the little ones who had put in the effort:
"Dobby's roasted chicken skin was so crispy! Cocoa's salad dressing was just right! Ali's mashed potatoes were delicious! And Lena even folded a swan out of a tissue? So elegant!"
Seeing the house-elves and little puppets excited and happy because of the praise, a warm smile appeared on Wade's lips.
After eating and drinking her fill, Fiona quickly moved to the living room sofa, turned on the webcam, and tuned to her favorite show, "Pot Talk," where she was frequently amused and giggled.
Dobby and Coco were busy in the kitchen, making a clattering sound as they cleared the dishes.
Ferdinand then took out a chilled bottle of port and two glasses, gestured to Wade, and walked to the small table next to the fireplace.
Only one wall lamp was on, casting a warm, soft orange glow on the carpet. The firewood in the fireplace crackled softly, and bursts of laughter from the stand-up comedy audience could be heard intermittently through the camera lens.
The father and son sat down in armchairs, and Ferdinand poured two glasses of amber-colored wine, handing one to Wied.
"Try it." He said, taking a sip himself and showing an expression of enjoyment: "As expected of the brand chosen by Funan Mason, the quality is impeccable."
Wade first sniffed the aroma, then took a sip. The liquid was smooth, with a prominent sweetness, and almost no noticeable alcohol stimulation.
After taking a couple more sips, Ferdinand casually started talking about company matters:
"...These young people have been talking about the internet lately, saying they won't need email anymore, they'll just send emails. They've even started sending e-cards, and they've shortened 'Merry Christmas' to 'Mery Xmas'."
"To be honest, the world has been moving faster and faster these past few years... so fast that it's a bit hard to keep up. I'm even planning to find a professor from a university to learn how to manage a company online as well..."
As he spoke, Wade slowly drank half a glass of wine.
The wine had a hint of toasted walnut flavor and tasted even better than he expected. After downing half a glass, a warm feeling rose from deep within his body, slowly spreading to his limbs, giving him a slightly tipsy and relaxed sensation.
Ferdinand spoke for a while before realizing his son wasn't responding.
He turned his head and saw Wade leaning back in his chair, still holding a wine glass in his hand, but his eyes were somewhat glazed over as he stared blankly at the flames in the fireplace.
Even when relaxed, Wade's brows seemed to furrow slightly as if he were always pondering some unsolvable problem.
So... he's drunk?
Ferdinand could hardly believe it.
He looked at his son, then at the wine bottle, and even wondered if he had accidentally picked up the wrong one.
Afterward, Ferdinand put down his wine glass and silently looked at his son for a long while.
Looking at that extremely young face that often seemed too calm, and at the wrinkles between his brows that couldn't be completely smoothed out even in the warm yellow firelight, a familiar, complex emotion mixed with pride and heartache welled up in his heart again.
“Wade”.
Ferdinand spoke softly, as if afraid of disturbing something: "Are you... very tired?"
It seemed like it took Wade a few seconds to realize that his father was speaking.
He nodded slowly and slightly, then shook his head.
“I’m tired…it’s my own fault,” Wade mumbled. “I don’t want to stand on the bridge…but it’ll only make things worse if someone else stands on it…”
"Bridge?" Ferdinand didn't understand. "What bridge?"
But Wade didn't explain; he just shook his head, his eyes growing increasingly unfocused, and his body began to slide down.
Ferdinand knew that his son was really drunk, and had gotten drunk very quickly—perhaps because he knew the house was absolutely safe, so he let his guard down?
Ferdinand sighed, put down his glass, got up and went to his son, helping him up by the arm, saying:
"Alright, that's all for tonight. I'll take you back to your room to rest."
Wade did not resist. He stood up with his father's help, and was carried upstairs unsteadily to his bedroom, where he fell asleep immediately.
Ferdinand helped him take off his shoes and coat, pulled over a thick blanket, and carefully covered him up.
Just as he was about to leave, a hand suddenly reached out from under the covers and grabbed his wrist.
Wade opened his eyes groggily and said slowly, "Dad, I want to... I want to make some changes to the house, is that okay?"
"Remodel?" Ferdinand asked, somewhat surprised. "Remodel what?"
“Safety measures…” Wade buried his head in the pillow and muttered, “It needs to be even safer…”
Ferdinand was stunned for a moment, then a bittersweet feeling welled up in his heart.
He bent down and, with his other free hand, gently smoothed the slightly disheveled hair on Vid's head, saying softly:
"Of course, Wade... This is your home. Whatever you want to do, your parents will support you."
As soon as he finished speaking, he saw Wade loosen his grip on his wrist, his eyes close completely, his breathing become even and long, and he drifted off to sleep peacefully.
Ferdinand stood quietly by the bed for a while longer.
In the dim light from the window, he gazed at his son's sleeping profile.
The calmness and aloofness of her sober self had faded from her face. Long eyelashes cast faint shadows under her eyelids, her nose was straight, and her lips were slightly pursed. One could still vaguely see the quiet, well-behaved, and adorable appearance she had as a child.
He felt that his son had never grown up, and looked exactly the same as before when he was asleep;
He also wished that his son had never grown up, so that he wouldn't have to face the storms that made him frown.
But he knew that Wade had grown up. Grown up faster and further than they had imagined.
Ferdinand sighed softly, tucked the blanket around his son, and quietly left the room, gently closing the door behind him.
(End of this chapter)