HP: She married Malfoy after becoming an exchange student.

As evening fell, the snow was falling heavily. Draco stood outside the manor's iron gate and stamped the soles of his boots; a thin layer of snow had already accumulated on the lock of the storage box.

He pulled his scarf up to cover half his face, his nose red from the cold, and clutched a dark blue velvet box tightly in his hand—a Christmas gift for Elias, which he had carried all the way from London to Germany, the corners of the box warmed by his body heat.

The ornate iron gate opened automatically with a "click," and Elias stood in the porch inside, a few snowflakes falling on his dark wizard robes. His eyes lit up when he saw the box in his hand.

"Ten minutes earlier than the letter said," he walked over and brushed the snow off Draco's shoulder, his fingertips brushing against the other's cool earlobe. "I thought you were going to postpone your Christmas present until next year."

Draco hid the box behind his back. "Who said it was for you? I just bought it on the way," Malfoy said stubbornly, but Elias pulled him toward the villa. Snowflakes rustled in the air between them.

The fireplace in the living room was blazing, a silver kettle sat on the mahogany table, and the sweet aroma of pumpkin mixed with the scent of cinnamon wafted out.

Just as Elias reached the table, a house-elf wearing a white apron appeared with a "snap," carrying two cups of pumpkin juice, its apron stained with orange-yellow mud.

"Sparkling...Sparkling is cooked."

The little elf nervously pushed the cup forward, glanced at the box in Draco's hand, and then quickly lowered his head.

"This is Sparkle," Elias nodded to the little elf. "She's been with the Reinhardt family for almost thirty years. Knowing you love pumpkin juice, she specially added honey and cinnamon."

Elias turned to Draco, gesturing meaningfully with his chin. "My Christmas present for Mrs. Narcissa arrived at Malfoy Manor last week—a snow owl that sings the school song. Your mother said you like it."

Draco felt a little hot, so he put the box on the table and pushed it in front of Elias: "This is for you, consider it... consider it a return gift from the Moonmoth."

He deliberately kept a straight face, "Don't expect too much, it was just something I bought casually in Diagon Alley." The young master emphasized the word "just" to prevent anyone from overthinking.

Elias picked up the box, his fingertips tracing the velvet surface, and slowly opened it—inside was a silver bookmark, with the words "The Contract is Glory" engraved in Nietzsche shining with a remarkable light.

"The personal belongings of that 17th-century justice minister? You can't find this kind of thing in Diagon Alley." He looked up, unable to hide the amusement in his eyes. "I only mentioned it once in a letter, and you actually remembered it."

"Tch, some people write that big, it's impossible not to see them." Draco took a big gulp of pumpkin juice to cover his unnatural voice. "I bought it in Diagon Alley, don't guess!"

Elias carefully placed the bookmark into the inner pocket of his wizard's robe, his fingertips touching his heart: "I like it very much."

He turned to Sparkle and said, "Bring up the snacks I prepared for Draco, the box of cinnamon cookies."

Flash disappeared with a "pop" and quickly returned with a gold foil box containing cookies shaped like stars.

"Shanshan... put a hand warmer in the young master's room." She whispered, her eyes sneaking glances at the empty box on the table again, clearly curious about the bookmark.

Draco took a bite of the biscuit, and as the sweet aroma filled the air, he heard Elias say to Gilgamesh, "Take Draco to see his room. I'll wait for you in the study."

The room was on the second floor, and when you opened the door, you were greeted by a room full of warm light.

The velvet carpet felt soft underfoot, the silver hand warmer on the bedside table radiated a warm glow, and the light streaming in from the window formed a dot on the carpet.

"Shanshan just posted yesterday that the bedding has been aired out," Elias's voice came from the doorway—someone had clearly said she was going to the study, but somehow followed her here again. "There are spare robes in the wardrobe. Berlin is colder than London, so wear these if you get cold."

Draco opened the storage box and put things into the wardrobe, his eyes fixed on the robe inside, the Reinhard family crest embroidered on the hem gleaming discreetly.

A hint of satisfaction flashed in Draco's eyes, but he deliberately put on a stern face: "This is barely acceptable. The guest rooms at Malfoy Manor all have snow lion fur carpets!"

Elias watched Draco smugly swaying his head, his eyes filled with unknowing indulgence.

Warm-toned light slanted down from above, casting gentle shadows on the silver-haired boy's face. "A very strong desire to share," Elias thought.