Chapter 1: Holiday From Reality

The screams hung in the air, loud and demanding, filtering out of the deceptively calm blue of the nursery. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing for the wails to dissolve, but after a few seconds let out a frustrated screech of her own and violently gathered her fiery hair into a knot as she strode into the room.

Two toddlers had pulled themselves up against their prison bars, rattling them away with their tiny fists as they howled. Wringing her hands, Ginny stepped over scattered toys and blankets to the first crib and scooped the black-haired baby from his cage, holding him to her chest.

“Sh, Albus, sh,” she soothed, rocking from foot to foot as she made her way to the second crib.

“Mummy, mummy,” James whimpered, grabbing at the air as his mother drew closer to his prison.

“I’m here,” she whispered, rubbing Albus’s back as he snuggled closer into her shoulder. She handed James a fallen toy, and he settled back down into his crib to amuse himself.

Within minutes, her one-year-old had fallen asleep again, and Ginny set Albus back inside his crib. James was a little heavy-eyed himself, and Ginny lowered herself into the rocking chair and pretended to read until he too had fallen victim to sleep.

Sighing somewhat happily to herself, Ginny rose from the chair and began to tiptoe out of the room. She had almost made it to the door when a loud crack sounded in the hallway and shook the children from their slumber.

Ginny ripped the door open and slammed it behind her, stomping out into the corridor to find her husband dusting off his Auror robes and straightening his crooked glasses, a placid smile on his face.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she bellowed over the cries of her children. She felt the overwhelming urge to hit something – or someone – and smacked her hand into the wall beside her.

Harry looked at her with startled green eyes. “Gin, I didn’t think-”

“That’s right! You didn’t think!” she screeched, forcefully slamming her index finger into his chest. “I haven’t slept for thirty two hours! It’s been one or the other, crying or hungry or needing to be changed. You’re never around, or when you are, you’re talking about how we should have another one! You’re always working, or out of town, or off getting pissed with Ron! I didn’t sign up for that, and I’ve – I’ve had it!”

Harry looked quite alarmed now, backing against the wall as she berated him. “What are you saying?”

She faltered slightly at his nervous tone. “I…I need a break, Harry. I need to go away for a little while. You need to take care of your own children occasionally. Do you even know how to do that?”

He looked quite horrified at the prospect and rubbed his forehead tiredly, as if the very idea of caring for his sons exhausted him. “How long will you be gone?”

Ginny sighed, considering. “About a month, I think.”

“Where will you go?”

“Paris,” she replied, as if she had known all along. “I’ve always wanted to go to Paris.”

***

The hotel Harry insisted upon putting her up in was almost too nice for Ginny’s taste. Halfway through unpacking her suitcases and putting away her belongings, Ginny grew bored and grabbed one of the travel books off the bureau, flipping idly through its pages.

She quickly located the nearest wizarding market, grabbed her purse and coat, and left her half-unpacked suitcases for later. She found the place easily enough, and spent the first part of the afternoon wandering down its cobblestone streets, her nose in her traveler’s guide, determined not to think about Harry.

But what an arse. God, just once, couldn’t he come home for dinner? Or kiss me? Or actually pay attention when I talk to him. No, no. Stop. You’re not thinking about him.

As the pleasant autumn afternoon began to fade into evening, Ginny began directing her meandering toward the restaurants, referencing her book as she passed by more shops. As she turned the corner, she ran headlong into something comfortably warm and solid.

She stumbled backwards and teetered in her boots. “Pardon,” she gasped, the French rolling effortlessly off her tongue. The stranger’s hands grasped her arms, steadying her.

“Weasley?” the stranger asked curiously. Ginny looked up, startled. There was something oddly familiar about that voice.

Gray eyes looked down at her, taking in her face as if trying to decide whether they knew her or not. They were slightly crinkled at the edges and lit up as he smiled in recognition.

“Ginny Weasley. Well, this is a surprise,” he said.

“Malfoy?” she asked bewilderedly, taking a step back to get a better look at him. His pale blond hair was slightly shaggy and unkempt, very different to how it had been in their school days, but it suited his face. His eyes, once cold and malicious were now softer and slightly warm. But it was his smile that made her blink, for without that trademark scowl he looked the tiniest bit gorgeous.

“It’s Draco,” he corrected graciously. “You’ve grown since I saw you last,” he added somewhat impishly.

“I assume you don’t mean up when you say grown,” she replied in a mischievous tone of her own. But at his slightly roguish smile she caught herself. “You look well.”

He sobered at her changed demeanor and nodded. “I am. And yourself?”

“Very well,” Ginny replied stiffly. “What are you doing in Paris?”

“I live here now. I’ve had enough of England to last me a lifetime. Paris has treated me well in the last seven years. But what are you doing here?”

“Oh, just…on holiday, I guess,” she muttered, lifting up her book.

“Those things don’t know what they’re talking about,” he said, reaching for her book and examining the back. “I know a nice place that you would never find in a travel guide. Come on, I’ll take you,” he added, tossing her book into the nearest flower pot with a grin.

“Well, I…” Ginny hesitated, staring after her book.

“It’s really no problem. It’s not often I can speak English with someone who doesn’t butcher the language.” He laughed, motioning for her to follow.

“Well…” She fidgeted with a button on her coat. Go out to dinner with Draco Malfoy?

“Weasley, really. Things have changed since we were in school. In more ways than one,” he added, raising a pale eyebrow.

“Alright, then,” Ginny conceded, falling into step beside him.

The restaurant turned out to be a café-like restaurant down the road, not what she’d imagined Malfoy picking out. He spoke to the waiters with familiarity and didn’t need a menu, making suggestions to her as she pored over her own.

It was strangely easy to hold a conversation with him, ranging from Quidditch to books to interests they’d acquired since Hogwarts. Much as she tried to avoid it, the topic eventually switched over to marriage and children.

“Don’t look so apprehensive,” he laughed as she squirmed when he brought up Harry. “I’d assumed you were married.” He chuckled again she let out a relieved sigh, furiously trying to bite back a comment about how she almost wished it were otherwise. “Do you have any children?”

“Two,” she sighed again, taking another sip of her drink. “Boys. One and two years old.”

“That’s quite a handful you have there,” Draco replied, downing his own scotch.

Ginny nodded, adjusting the hem of her skirt clumsily. “It’s why I’m on holiday.” She giggled a little too loudly.

Draco smiled sympathetically.

“What about you? Married with children?”

His bright eyes darkened to a stormy gray that she hadn’t seen since his seventh year. He motioned for another scotch and clinked the ice in his glass. “I was married for a very short time about a year ago. Cecelia left me and took our son back to England. As far as I know, she and the gardener are very happy.”

“Oh, Draco,” Ginny sighed, tears filling her eyes. He looked so very unhappy and bitter about the whole thing. He obviously missed her. And to be kept away from his son… “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s in the past,” he responded gruffly. “Serves me right for jumping into something like marriage.”

Ginny gave him a watery smile. She gazed around the restaurant, which was filling up with new, late night guests. Some already looked a little tipsy, wobbling in their three inch heels and gripping the arms of their escorts tightly, but visibly several years older than herself. Trying to think of the last time she had gone out at night, Ginny felt her shoulders sag. She had been like that not so long ago.

“But the food here is great, isn’t it?” Draco broke in with a much cheerier voice. “I’ve been eating here for nearly three years.”

“It’s fantastic,” Ginny breathed, staring as a single tear slipped from his eye. He ignored it, letting it fall into his glass of scotch.

He put money down on the table and the two of them left, walking slowly along the softly lit street beneath the stars. Soft music floated down from one of the open windows above the shops, and as it flowed through her body and the night, Ginny began to feel herself floating as well.

“I’m glad you came,” he said suddenly as they were nearing the entrance to Muggle Paris.

“So am I,” she whispered.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and looked up at the stars and then back down at her. Driven by a sudden, drunken impulse, Ginny stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

It was almost as if he’d been waiting for it. His arms encircled her, his fingers threaded through her hair and then cupped her face. He kissed her both tenderly and hungrily, drinking her in and making her knees shaky beneath her. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced, making her tremble with desire. Never had she felt so wanted, so needed in her entire life. She moaned against him.

“Where do you live?” she whispered, deliriously happy and not thinking straight.

“A few blocks from here,” he answered, capturing her lips in another heated kiss.

“Take me,” she breathed.

They Apparated, still wrapped up in each other. They fell with a crash as they arrived at his flat, fumbling with each other’s clothes while still kissing feverishly. His skin was deliciously hot against hers as they stumbled into his bedroom, gasping and aching for each other.

The stars outside twinkled against the black velvet of the night sky while the cool breeze swept fallen leaves into the crisp air. It was on such an autumn night that Ginny found herself, on her first time in Paris, in Draco Malfoy’s bed.

***

She awoke to the sound of chirping birds. Ginny opened both eyes, with what felt like tremendous effort, to see a small, light-filled room. The windows that lined the wall looked over a golden brown courtyard and hundreds of singing birds. Ginny sat up, clutching the sheet to her body and stared out across the beautiful sight.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted into the room and Ginny sniffed the air hopefully, swinging her feet out of bed and standing up, wrapping the dark green sheet around her.

She wandered down the hall, rubbing her eyes sleepily with her free hand, and stumbled into the kitchen. Draco was wearing gray pajama bottoms, bent over something sizzling in the frying pan.

“There she is,” he said, grinning. “A vision in green. Coffee?” He motioned at the steaming mug on the table.

“Bless you,” she replied, reaching blearily for the mug.

He smiled again, peering at her over his shoulder. Within minutes, he had two plates of bacon and eggs placed before them on the table.

“So…” he started, chewing on his eggs thoughtfully.

“So…” Ginny nodded, taking a bite of eggs herself so that she wouldn’t have to say anything. What they had done was wrong. So incredibly, ridiculously wrong. It was probably the most horrendous thing she had ever done in her life.

And she didn’t even care.

As she struggled to find the guilt or regret she expected to find eating away at her heart, Ginny realized it wasn’t there at all. She didn’t regret the previous evening at all. What was wrong with her?

He smiled at her, and she felt a bit of her consciousness melt at the sight. That’s why. He’s just so damn perfect. She felt very much like she was sixteen again, a prospect that both thrilled and terrified her.

“So…” he said again, humor laced in his voice.

“So what do you want to do today?” Ginny asked, smashing her eggs with her fork.

He started, a surprised look on his face. “I could show you around Paris,” he answered. “The real Paris. Not what you read in books.”

Ginny took a drink of coffee to hide a smile. “I’d like that.”

He showed her everything. What they didn’t get to the first day, after flying kites and riding boats and feeding swans, they did the next day, and the next. He took her to shows and cafés. They spent whole afternoons under trees in the park, reading from books. They walked along the river and had a man paint their portrait. One afternoon, because Ginny insisted, they went to the top of the Eiffel tower with the American Muggle tourists.

The sun rose early the week after she had arrived, falling across Draco’s bed, waking Ginny and drenching her in its golden glow. She pulled on the soft green dress they had bought together, just to see him smile when she adorned herself with the Slytherin color.

He held her hand as they strolled down a leaf scattered avenue, pointing into various windows and squeezing her hand lightly after every few steps.

“Draco, where are we going?” She laughed, letting go of his hand and spinning as the wind picked up and sent golden leaves raining down on them.

“It’s a surprise,” he insisted, reaching for her hand again.

She tugged it away. “Tell me or you can’t have my hand back.”

He laughed. “It’s right up there,” he sighed, pointing up the street at a wide park.

“We’ve been there before.” Ginny pouted, scooping up a handful of leaves and throwing them into the air.

“But not when it was like this,” he replied, pointing at the mountains of leaves that were scattered across the square. She shrieked as he grabbed her around her waist and hauled them both into the nearest pile. She screamed with laughter, punching at him as they disappeared into the leaves.

“You stupid git!” She laughed, still swatting at him. “You’re in for it now.”

“Oh I am, am I?” He grinned, pulling a leaf out of her hair.

She smiled breathlessly as well, pushing him back down into the leaves and pressing her lips against his own.

“A just punishment, I think,” he said when they broke away, gasping for air.

She smiled cheekily at him. “I’m always fair.”

“You’re perfect,” he corrected.

“Well, so are you,” she declared, leaning into him again.

Each day, Ginny knew any semblance of the guilt she felt was draining away. Draco spent every day with her, only her. He put off meetings, rearranged lunches, and skipped whole days of work simply to be with her, and it was unlike anything Ginny had ever experienced. And they spent every night together as well.

She realized, after spending seemingly endless weeks with him, that she didn’t want to go home. She realized that being this cared for was something she was getting used to, and the idea of losing it frightened her.

One night, they lay awake in Draco’s bed, bathed in the moonlight. He traced circles on her back with his thumb as they talked about the gallery they had visited that morning.

“I’ve been here almost four weeks,” Ginny said softly, gazing out the window. Almost all the golden leaves that had adorned the trees on her first day in Paris had fallen. It made Ginny sad to think about it.

“I know,” Draco sighed happily, still running his fingers across her back.

Ginny pulled at the sheets. The past weeks had been something out of a dream or one of the Muggle movies they had gone to see. She wished she could stay forever. But somehow, it felt like a vacation. For the both of them.

“I’ll have to…go back, you know,” Ginny said softly, focusing her eyes on the sheets.

His fingers stopped moving. “What?”

“Well…” she whispered. “This was a – a holiday. Wasn’t it?”

“Ginny,” he said in a low voice. “No. You…you can’t go back. I love you.”

Hope welled in her throat but she shoved it back down. “You can’t – no. You don’t even know me.”

“I know what’s important. I know where you’re ticklish. I know your favorite books and foods and what makes you happy.”

Ginny swallowed. This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t really want her. “I…I don’t know what to say…” she whispered.

“Say you’ll stay,” he urged her, rolling over in bed and taking her into his arms. “Stay here with me. I love you.”

Ginny looked into his gray eyes and smiled. She thought of the past month and everything he had taught her about life and love. She felt dizzy. Nothing had ever seemed this right to her.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“You’ll stay?” he whispered, not daring to believe his ears.

“Yes.”

“You’ll stay?” he yelled, jumping to his feet and bouncing on the bed.

She laughed. “Yes, yes! I’ll stay.”

He swooped down and lifted her up, kissing her until she saw stars.

“I love you.”

***

Ginny laughed giddily as she threw the few belongings that had remained at her hotel room into her suitcase. She was staying here. She was staying with Draco.

The room echoed as she laughed again, twirling across the floor to grab her last pair of shoes from the closet. She tossed them on top of her luggage and grabbed her calendar from the dresser, flipping open to the date, ready to cross it off.

The pen quivered in her hand as she passed October 16. A small red dot at the bottom of the page marked the beginning of her period.

October 16 was two weeks ago, a tiny voice in her head reminded her.

“I know that,” Ginny snapped out loud, flipping the pages of the calendar so harshly that she ripped one out.

She threw the calendar down, desperately trying to squash the feeling of dread that was seeping into her skin. She sank down onto the bed, trying to breathe deeply, but there wasn’t enough air. No, no, no.

She grabbed her coat and flew out the door, running down the street to the small Muggle pharmacy and returning to her room minutes later with her purchase tucked under her arm.

She couldn’t remember the spell the mediwitch had used on her when she visited St. Mungo’s during her pregnancies with James and Albus. The pregnancy test was her best option, even if it was a Muggle contraption.

Ginny lowered her head between her knees as she waited, and everything seemed to rush to her at once. She could hear James’s laugh and see Albus’s hesitant smile.

What am I doing? I can’t just pack up and leave them. What the hell is wrong with me? She lowered her gaze to her stomach, hugging her arms around herself and rocking back and forth on the bed. Could Harry have thwarted her dash for freedom in the most unintentional way?

“Let’s have another one, Gin…”

The end of the stick turned blue.

Oh my God.

All of a sudden her choice seemed much clearer. She wouldn’t take a child from its father. She would go home.

Author's Notes: Thanks to my wonderful beta, Embellished. My support system, Alexsandra and fallenwitch. And to those who took the time to leave a review, TwistedPixie, nikisasilverrain, DracoGinnyLover, D_Rad_88, CCC, laylaelaine, dgloves70, crazykay254, Mars, and DanRadcliffesgrrl.

Chapter 2: The Sleeping Dragon

Draco chuckled to himself as he took the stairs to his apartment three at a time. She would be over in an hour with all her stuff, ready make the place theirs.

The three top drawers of his dresser were emptied and waiting for her, as was what she hadn’t already claimed of the right side of the closet and space in the bathroom.

Ours, Draco couldn’t help thinking to himself. She was so very different from Cecelia. There was something fierce burning inside her that made every second they spent together intoxicating. The very air around her was hard to get enough of.

Draco nearly unhinged his front door in excitement, something arguably dangerous swelling in his chest as he tried to crush it back down. It felt unsafe to be so ecstatic.

You don’t have to worry about that. She’s not like Celia, he reminded himself once more. He stepped into the apartment, but stopped suddenly with his hand still on the doorknob.

The place was buzzing with an uncomfortable sort of silence. Gray eyes swept across the entryway, taking in the cleared off table and spotless rug. A month ago, that wouldn’t have been so unusual, but he had grown accustomed to seeing Ginny’s shoes strewn about on the floor and her purse and coat laid across the table. There was something unsettling about their absence.

He closed the door behind him slowly, listening for the sound of Ginny farther into the apartment. But all that filled his ear was the buzzing silence.

He walked lightly down the corridor, almost afraid to venture any further. A thick feeling of dread was seeping into his chest. He pushed his bedroom door open tentatively, looking past with widened eyes.

Everything she owned was gone. His closet looked oddly empty without her clothes in it. The uneven stack of books once found in the corner was gone, along with the photographs she had plastered on the walls of the two of them. A sharp pain shot through Draco’s chest. His vision blurred gray around the edges as he stepped further into the room.

His eyes focused momentarily on the folded sheet of parchment lying on top of his dresser, and his hands, with a mind of their own, reached for and unfolded it.

He took in the shaky handwriting, so different from her normal loopy scrawl, and lowered his tearing eyes to read.

Draco,

I know you cannot possibly understand this, and I would never ask you to. Just know that I cannot stay here with you. I will always remember our time in Paris, but I understand if you choose to forget it. Goodbye, Draco.

Love,

Ginny

The paper was damp as he shredded it between his fingers and let it fall to the floor like the leaves outside. He looked around the room helplessly, as if for something to do, and his eyes landed on the only thing she had left hanging upon the wall.

As he drew closer to it, he could only make out its vague colors through his tears. The flaming red of her hair, painted beside the shaggy blond of his own – the portrait from beside the river. Why would she have left this?

Teeth clenched and eyes burning, Draco lifted his wand. “Incendio!”

But as the flame licked its way up from the corner, Draco cried out and smothered it with his hand. His fingers shined red from the burn, but he couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel anything at all.

She wasn’t that different from Celia after all.

***

The pain in his chest was so great that Draco couldn’t find the energy to rise from the bench. He stared blankly out across the park. The trees were bare now, and all the leaves had been swept away. The couples and children that had once laughed and played in the sun were all gone, chased into their homes by the biting cold.

He saw her everywhere he looked, as translucent and fleeting as a ghost or a shadow. His heart ached.

It wasn’t only under the barren trees at the park. He saw her alongside the river, or at the café, or laughing in the back row of the cinema. He would turn, a smile upon his face, to catch another glimpse of her, only to find he was imagining her once more.

Paris was dead to him.

He sighed, reaching into his pocket and removing the letter that he had put back together with tape and tears. It was crumpled and faded now, for he had read it so many times.

He bent forward to let his eyes sweep over the shaky scrawling, choking as he always did when they came across the final two words. Love, Ginny.

Draco rose from the bench, stuffing the letter into his pocket, and began the long amble home. As hard as he tried to make himself walk faster, his feet wouldn’t listen. What did his feet know of his heart’s sufferings? They couldn’t know that every second he spent in the streets of the city was another second of remembering her.

At least once he made it to the apartment he could open a Firewhisky and drown his sorrows at the bottom of the bottle. For the days when even Firewhisky couldn’t make him forget, he downed a potion and collapsed onto the bed, now covered with plain white sheets.

He coughed to push back the traitorous tears welling in this throat. He made sure to keep his eyes on the cobbled paving below his feet, so that he didn’t see the stores where they had shopped together.

He averted his eyes as he passed a couple strolling down the avenue, hand in hand and laughing. Their cheeks and noses were bright red from the cold, but Draco could tell they hadn’t noticed. They were each other’s world.

Draco coughed again. There was no life for him here now. There would be no living. He would leave Paris. He would go somewhere else.

***

The sun was trickling over the rooftops as Draco stared up at the building in wonder. The man standing beside him kept staring at him uncertainly, and then down either side of the sloping street. A harsh wind was picking up, ruffling Draco’s hair, and the man clutched his hat to his head.

“It’s good, no?” the man asked, peering up at Draco.

Draco nodded, still gazing up at the two stories of crumbling whitewashed wall.

“You plan to make it American club?” the man asked, looking expectantly at the wallet in Draco’s hand. “Here in Prague?”

Draco shook his head. “No. An English saloon. British.”

The man nodded, his eyes still fixed on Draco’s pocketbook.

Draco sighed and pulled out the check. “Gringotts is okay?”

The man nodded. “The best.”

Draco spent months pouring every bit of himself into the old building. It had the most perfect layout he could have asked for, but everything else seemed to be falling apart or broken. The barroom didn’t even have solid floors, let alone a bar or the right color. But with the help of a team of wizarding carpenters and decorators, he fixed up and furnished his building. It had a barroom and back parlors for special guests, as well as second story living quarters.

Eight months after his life in Paris had died, he found himself in Prague. He found himself with The Sleeping Dragon.

***

It was one of the bar’s busier nights. Draco surveyed the chatter and gambling through a haze of cigar smoke, tapping his fingers against the bar. A grim smile tugged at his lips as his highest paying customer stepped inside the door and handed his coat to one of his men.

The place had gathered quite a crowd in the past year and a half. His younger self might have regarded it with something close to pride, but the dull satisfaction in his chest did the trick most days now.

Draco accepted a glass of scotch from his bartender and began his rounds through the gambling tables, eyeing a twitchy Gobstones player suspiciously for a while before moving on to the Muggle card players. After circling through the tables, he made his way back to the bar. He would watch for a while longer before retiring upstairs, bored of the drunken wizards and their escorts, to read a book and drink some Firewhisky.

“Draco!” a woman from across the room screeched. None of the men looked up from their games or drinks, but Draco flicked his eyes in her direction.

She looked beautiful. Her hair was up in curls and her pale skin was flushed a deep red. It took Draco a minute to find her name.

“Katia. What are you doing here?” he asked, guiding her to the side of the room with his free hand.

There were tears in her eyes as she watched him down the rest of his scotch. “You haven’t called for me in a week,” she sniffed, looking up at him. Her breath reeked of alcohol.

“I’ve been busy,” he replied coldly, putting his glass on the bar. She looked very much like Saskia. Or had it been Nadia? They all tended to blur with the Firewhisky.

“Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered, laying a hand on his arm possessively.

He removed her hand. “You need to go home. You’ve had too much to drink.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” she snarled in a throaty voice.

“Damir?” Draco called. The dark monster of a man thundered across the floor, his hands behind his back. “Please escort Katia home. Make sure she stays there,” he added sharply.

Sighing, Draco gave the barroom one last sweeping look before beginning the climb upstairs. He unlocked his door and waved his wand at the candles. The soft glow was suddenly cast upon a woman sitting in his chair.

She rose, a pale blue gown fluttering around her ankles, and smiled at him. “You’ve been a while,” she remarked lowly.

He nodded. It didn’t take him very long to place her name. “Things got busy, Collette.”

She smiled again. “But you can never stay away.”

“How did you even get in here?” he said a little too bitingly.

“I borrowed a key,” she replied softly, her full lips curving into a catlike smile once more.

“I’ll have to have a stern word with my staff,” he said gruffly, turning to his desk.

“Come here,” she demanded, shaking out her luminous blonde hair. “I’m not one of your stupid bints. I’m not even one of your whores. I don’t want anything from you. No strings. Isn’t that what you want too?”

He was tempted to tell her no, that wasn’t what he wanted at all. What he wanted had fiery hair and a soul to match, but that was long gone in another country with another man. He was tempted to tell her she may be different in her approach, but Collette was just like every other woman who stayed the night at The Sleeping Dragon. He was tempted to tell her to go home, as he had to Katia.

But he didn’t. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed searing kissing into his neck, and he forced himself to return them. But he couldn’t force himself to wake up for her. His life was a little like sleeping, he sometimes thought grimly. He was the sleeping dragon.

Author's Notes: Thanks to my wonderful beta, Embellished. Many thanks to fallenwitch for talking me through anything and everything. Special thanks to all who took the time to leave a review. I appreciate each one more than you know.

Chapter 3: This Side of Goodbye

It was raining again. Angry, rumbling clouds swirled gray in the sky, occasionally set off by a deep gash of light. Ginny was curled up catlike on the windowsill, her eyes taking in the overwhelming gloom with a sense of understanding.

It wasn’t sadness that penetrated her soul. She had transcended sadness quite some time ago. Acceptance was her burden now. She had accepted around the time that the sadness faded that this was her life and would always be her life.

Her heart clenched at the thought of the train station a month ago, when they had dropped off the boys for school. Through the fog, she had seen them first. She had averted her eyes, pretending she hadn’t, but she couldn’t deny the flash of the boy’s white-blond hair, and Ginny had thought she might throw up there on the platform.

Sighing, she unfolded her legs and padded into the kitchen. He was bent over the sports section, the rest of the morning paper left discarded on the counter.

“How’d the Cannons do?” Ginny asked faintly as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

It took him a moment to answer. “What?” he asked, looking up and blinking his dull green eyes owlishly. “Oh. Bloody lost again.”

“That’s a shame,” Ginny replied, grimacing as she tasted the weak coffee.

Harry nodded, flipping the page.

“Any post from the boys?”

“No. None since Saturday,” Harry mumbled.

Nodding, Ginny stirred her coffee and left the room without bothering another venture. She hadn’t been expecting mail from the boys, but she often felt as if she should be saying something, and Harry preferred it if she asked him questions that were easy to answer.

She dropped onto the sofa, sighing heavily over her coffee. She remembered, with an ironic sense of wistfulness, when they used to fight and scream. It used to happen all the time. Or rather, she fought and he stared at her, preferring to sit through the yelling instead of battling with her. But as she grew tired of it, they reached an unspoken agreement to coexist in a state of nothingness. Ginny rather thought she preferred the screaming to the nothingness.

“Mummy!” A squeal came from upstairs, and then the pattering of light footsteps. Moments later, a redheaded figure burst into the room and bounced onto the couch.

Ginny smiled effortlessly, putting down her coffee and gathering her nine-year-old into her arms. “Good morning, sunflower,” she chuckled, hugging Lily tightly.

“Are we going to Diagon Alley to visit Uncle George today?” she mumbled into Ginny’s robe.

“Well, I suppose,” Ginny replied, heaving a fake sigh.

Lily giggled, sitting up. “And could I get some things from the store?”

Ginny looked down at her daughter sternly. The girl’s eyes were on her lap, but Ginny knew all too well that they were twinkling with mischief. “Would you like a few Wonder Witch products?” Ginny asked innocently. “Or maybe a nice Pygmy Puff?”

Lily’s head snapped up, her blue eyes round in horror. “No!” she screeched.

Ginny laughed. “We’ll see, okay? I don’t know if your brothers could handle any more pranks from you, missy. Now go get dressed.”

Lily’s somber nod was quite the contrast from her explosion off the couch and up the stairs.

Ginny smiled after her. Her third child often seemed so very different from her brothers. Where she had once thought her sons were opposites – James was loud and arrogant whilst Albus was shy and thoughtful – Lily was from another world entirely.

She occasionally showed signs of affection, but was more likely to be caught jutting out her chin and stamping her foot. Lily would stand her ground to the point of recklessness.

There was undoubtedly some Weasley in there. Ginny often thought she could see a bit of Fred flash across her daughter’s face. But the mischief that seemed to radiate from Lily was a different brand than what was typical of a Weasley child.

Even her hair didn’t match up with the bright Weasley red. It was a lighter, faded shade of fire, as if she had been born with sun-kissed locks.

Ron often joked that Lily must have a bit of Hermione in her, for the girl was incredibly intelligent when she asserted her thoughts, but Ginny thought she was more shrewd than intelligent.

There was something about Lily that Ginny couldn’t pinpoint. George had once said it was her eyes. Lily had the most expressive and unusual eyes any of them had ever seen. They were like the sea – in a troubling instant they could flash from the most serene dark blue to a turbulent stormy gray that especially frightened James and Albus.

In any case, the daughter that had broken her heart ten years ago was now her reason for existing. Hermione said it was natural, now that the boys had left, that Ginny center her life around her last child. But Ginny had always felt a little differently about Lily. There was just something unusual –

Lily burst back into the room, dressed in her black skirt and ridiculous knee-length emerald socks, her favorite Muggle clothes. “I’m ready!”

Ginny smiled bemusedly at her daughter. “Don’t you think you’re a little old for those now?” she asked, gesturing at the socks.

Lily simply raised her eyebrow at her mother, and Ginny gave up, rising from the couch laughing. “All right, all right. Forget I said anything. I’ll go get dressed.”

After Ginny grabbed her purse and keys, she stuck her head in the kitchen to say goodbye to Harry. He was still reading the article on Puddlemere United.

“I’m taking Lily to Diagon Alley,” she told him.

“Good, good,” he replied, not even bothering to swallow his toast. “We’ll see you later, then.”

Ginny grinned happily as her daughter skipped through Diagon Alley, her long red hair streaming out behind her and her absurd socks catching odd looks. Ginny ran after her, both of them shrieking and screaming with laughter as they hopped from puddle to puddle left by the storm. They were pink cheeked and nearly soaked when they stumbled into George’s store.

“Look at the two of you,” he exclaimed. “Always scaring away my customers!”

“Uncle George! Do you have any of those Biting Toilet Seats left?”

George looked down at her fondly. “A munchkin after my own heart. Why don’t you check in the back?”

Lily ran off. George turned to Ginny. “She’s an odd one, your girl.”

Ginny smiled. “That she is.”

For a moment, George didn’t return the smile. He sometimes made Ginny uneasy, with how perceptive he had become in the past nineteen years.

Lily bounced back into the front room, carrying two innocent looking white toilet seats. “Can we get these, Mum? Please, please?”

Ginny tore her gaze from George’s face and looked down at her daughter, whose blue eyes were shining hopefully.

“Lily, honey, I don’t think you really need-” Ginny began, watching as those eyes instantly turned a ferocious gray.

“But Mum!” Lily exclaimed, clutching the toilet seats more tightly.

“They’re on me,” George intervened. “What kind of uncle would I be if I didn’t aid my niece in a little prank?”

Handing over the seats, Lily smirked at her uncle. Ginny’s heart nearly stopped in her chest. She knew that smirk. She just hadn’t seen it for ten years.

***

Ginny tried to calm her pounding heart as they made their way back through Diagon Alley. Lily was happily clutching her purple bag of purchases, but Ginny couldn’t help stealing glances at her every few seconds.

She was so preoccupied that she almost knocked into a woman strolling down the street, before Lily pulled her to the side.

“Mum, watch out!”

Ginny looked up, startled, into familiar wide blue eyes. “Luna?”

“Ginny!” her friend exclaimed, throwing her arms around Ginny’s neck. “I was just going to come see you tomorrow!”

“What are you doing here?” Ginny asked, breathing a sigh of relief as her heartbeat began to settle down. “I thought you were in Africa or something.”

“Oh, I was. I met the most amazing man, and now we’re going to be married. But I had to come back, because Daddy doesn’t really like Africa much and wanted us to get married here,” Luna gushed. She looked down at Lily. “You must be Lily. I haven’t seen you since you were a baby. You have the most peculiar green aura about you,” she added thoughtfully. “I haven’t seen one like that since I was in school.”

Lily looked delighted, while Ginny’s stomach did another flop. “Thanks!”

Luna smiled graciously at her, tucking a strand of long blonde hair behind her ear. Ginny grinned at the sight of her earrings, which had thin purple leaves dangling from them, a creation from Africa, no doubt.

“Anyway, Daddy suggested I take one last trip before I get married, with a girlfriend of mine. So I was hoping you’d like to come with me.”

Before Ginny could reply, Lily blurted, “Where are you going?”

“To Prague,” Luna answered. “Daddy says it’s the most beautiful city in the world. It’s where he and Mother met.”

Ginny contained a sigh of relief. As long as it wasn’t Paris. “How long were you thinking, Luna?” she asked. It might be nice, she thought, to get away for a little while. To have a break from Harry and spend a few days with one of her best friends.

“Just for half a week. Kael and I are going to be married next month, so I have to come back to finish planning. We’re trying to get an African spirit to marry us, you know.”

Lily stared at Luna in awe as Ginny considered. Half a week wouldn’t be difficult to arrange. “That sounds great, Luna. When do we leave?”

“Saturday,” she replied. “I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

Ginny nodded, waving goodbye. “I’ll see you, then.”

Lily looked reluctant to leave, but followed her mother while waving enthusiastically at Luna.

As they made their way to the car, Lily tugged at her mother’s sleeve. “How did she know my favorite color was green?”

***

Harry didn’t have any objections to her going away for a few days. She left directions on what to cook for Lily and what to do if she got into one of her brooding moods. But besides that, he just stared at her blankly and nodded.

Ginny and Luna Apparated to the wizarding center of Prague, each clutching an overstuffed suitcase and brimming with excitement. They checked into the inn where Luna had made reservations, which was small but quaint, and set out to enjoy their first day in the city.

Luna jabbered on about this museum and that, passing by parks and restaurants and shops, and pulled Ginny into exhibit after exhibit. Ginny smiled and followed her friend through all the displays, but by the end of the day she was tired and extremely bored.

They returned to the inn and changed for dinner, and Ginny insisted that they wear the nice dresses they brought and go out to a fancy place.

As they stumbled along the cobbled streets in their ridiculously high heels, arm in arm, Luna continued on about the lectures and museums they had seen that day.

“Dr. Posner was just brilliant, didn’t you think?” Luna said dreamily. “He was the first to suggest the existence of the Winged Arcitule, and I’ve always firmly believed-”

“Luna!” Ginny exclaimed exasperatedly, coming to a stop in the middle of the road. “Look, I know you love all of this stuff, but look at this place! We’re in the most beautiful city in the world, where your parents met, and we’re attending these talks about supposedly non-existent creatures! It’s your last time as a single woman! What do you say we have a little girl fun?”

Luna stared at her, her mouth forming a perfect little “O.” As a breeze blew her blonde hair up into the air, a wide smile began to spread across her face. “All right, then.”

Ginny giggled, grabbed her friend’s arm again and looked around for the nearest place that looked like it served alcohol. A sign hanging from one of the archways, while somewhat somber, caught her eye.

And without another thought, Ginny stumbled into The Sleeping Dragon.

Author's Notes: I want to thank Embellished, my beta who manages to get chapters back to me in a timely fashion while dealing with her own real life and writing. To fallenwitch and Alexsandra, and all of you who have been reading and especially reviewing. The only straight quote from Casablanca is in this chapter.

Chapter 4: She Walked Into Mine

It was the busiest night The Dragon had suffered in a long time. Draco hadn’t stopped making rounds through the tables for over an hour, and if things got any busier he might have to start serving the scotch himself.

He noticed the glasses were looking a little low at the Exploding Snap table, and swung by the bar to make mention of it to Shane.

“Looking low at six,” he muttered as he edged behind the bar and poured himself a shot of Firewhisky.

“I’m on it,” the newest bartender replied from beside Shane, whipping out another bottle and five glasses.

“Could do with some help from that boy of yours now, eh boss?” Shane laughed as he pulled out two bottles of liquor and flipped them upside down to pour into glasses without spilling a drop.

Draco raised an eyebrow, impressed as always. “You stay away from Scorpius with your bartender tricks. I don’t want him getting any funny ideas.”

The smallest of smiles flicked across his lips at the thought of his son, who had spent the last month of the summer staying with him in Prague. Scorpius had been spending parts of his summer at The Sleeping Dragon since he was five, and he knew the place better than Draco did. He could bartend better than anyone except perhaps Shane, and he had learned to play each table with Prague’s most ruthless businessmen.

He stared down at the shot of Firewhisky, his brows knitted together. Best not think too hard about Firewhisky – it never led to good things. He downed it, hoping to drown out the treacherous thoughts.

The end of the summer hadn’t been something Draco had looked forward to to begin with. He always hated saying goodbye to his son. But as he stood beside Celia on the platform, waving goodbye to Scorpius, he heard the angelic tinkling of a laugh that haunted his dreams. He never stood a chance, for although his head screamed at him to ignore the sound and continue smiling at his son, his heart clenched and his neck turned to see a flash of her red hair through the fog.

“Draco?” Shane asked with the air of someone repeating himself.

Draco shook his head as if to clear out the thoughts and looked up. “Yes?”

“Kovar is here. He and his people took the back room. He wants to see you.”

Draco nodded. “Take care of things out here for a while, yeah?”

“Of course.”

Draco straightened his tie. He detested Kovar. He was loud and rude and acted as if he owned the world. He threw money around like tissues, and it intimidated everyone but Draco, who knew a thing or two about throwing money around.

Nevertheless, the man was his best customer, and Draco made a point of humoring him. Humoring a customer, however, did not constitute kissing his feet. Draco had enough business to keep from degrading himself in that way.

He strode into the back room to find Kovar sprawled out on his green leather armchair, and four burly brutes scattered around the room, fingering their wands. Draco quelled the low growl at the bottom of his throat.

“Kovar, good to see you again. You are well?”

“Very well,” he responded in his slow, resounding voice. “I expect you know why we’re here?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

The men exchanged glances. “We heard from sources of ours that the tables are being set up,” Kovar explained.

Draco narrowed his eyes. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The man in the corner tightened his grip on his wand.

“I think you do,” Kovar insisted in that slow voice. “And I don’t have a problem with that. I, however, have been a customer since The Dragon opened, and I think I’m entitled…”

“No one at The Dragon is entitled to anything other than the chance to try his luck,” Draco hissed venomously. “This meeting is quite through. If you don’t intend to buy a drink or play the tables, you’re welcome to leave.”

“Malfoy,” Kovar grunted, heaving himself up from the chair. “I understand you don’t have a favorable opinion of me, but I-”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t have any opinion of you at all,” Draco replied curtly. “Excuse me.”

By the time he had returned to the barroom, his temper had cooled completely. It was funny how composed he had come to be in the last ten years. Very little, if anything at all, riled him up anymore. Draco simply considered it another benefit of apathy.

He cringed at the sight of a woman seated at the bar. She was chatting animatedly with one of his bartenders, her long blonde hair glowing under the lights. Her name escaped him, but he was sure once she caught sight of him she would howl about how he hadn’t made time for her recently.

She turned to wave at someone else in the room, and Draco followed her gaze to another woman coming from the restroom. Time slowed to a crawl as she glided across the room and slid into the adjacent barstool, asking the bartender for something to drink.

Draco felt his eyes roll back into his head for a moment and his knees go weak beneath him. He grasped the nearest chair with a shaking hand and struggled to breathe. He would know that hair anywhere, the fire that burned with the million colors of the sun against her cream-colored dress.

He didn’t think he could bear it as she turned slowly in her seat, cocking her head almost instinctively. Her gaze searched the room until it found his, and he could see, even from twenty feet away, her chocolate eyes widen with anything but happiness.

Her companion turned as well, her mouth falling open slightly as she caught sight of him, and Draco recognized her vaguely as another girl he had attended Hogwarts with.

There was nothing left for him to do but let his feet carry him across the room to the bar. When his brain failed to produce a greeting, she cleared her throat and said, “Hello, Draco.”

He swallowed. The words, so simple and nondescript to anyone else, rang in his ears. He felt like crying.

“Hullo, Ginny,” he said in a voice that sounded too smooth to be his own.

“You might not remember me from school,” said the woman to Ginny’s right, tucking blonde hair behind her ears. “I’m Luna Lovegood. You’re Draco Malfoy.”

Draco nodded, grateful for something to do.

“What are you doing here?” Luna asked cheerfully.

“I own The Dragon,” Draco replied, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers.

Ginny’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Well, that’s lovely. It’s a beautiful place,” Luna remarked.

“Thank you,” Draco breathed. Ginny was looking at him with wide, frightened eyes. She looked absolutely beautiful. It took his breath away and broke his heart just to be so close to her.

“You both enjoy your time here,” Draco said in his best cordial voice. “Shane, drinks on the house for these two.”

Ginny opened her mouth as if to say something, but Draco brushed past them into the back room, his head pounding. He sunk into the armchair Kovar had occupied less than ten minutes before, and held his head in his hands.

He heard the door creak open and shut quietly behind the intruder. Something clunked onto the table before him, and Draco looked up to see a tumbler of scotch.

“Thought you might want something like that,” Shane muttered, sitting down across from him.

Draco reached for the glass and downed it before settling back into the chair. He could feel Shane watching him thoughtfully. Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.

“Is she the one?” Shane asked softly, tracing circles on the table with his thumb.

“What?” Draco snapped.

“Is she the one? Is she the girl you’re always looking for, always waiting for?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Draco, I’ve worked at this place for seven years. I’ve seen dozens of women walk out those doors, not by choice, but because you sent them out. It’s like you’re always waiting for this certain girl to walk into your life. Is that girl in there the one you’ve been hoping for?”

Draco had lowered his face back to his hands during Shane’s little speech. “Go help the others, Shane,” he mumbled into his arms.

The man nodded, always certain what he was needed for, grabbed the glass, and left.

Draco exhaled shakily. He should have just stayed asleep.

***

The bottle before him on the table was almost empty, but his mind remained disappointingly sharp. Never before had the Firewhisky failed to dull his mind or pain. But he knew it was another fire that his heart desired at the moment.

Shane had cleaned up several hours ago, how many Draco didn’t know. The bar was dark and empty and echoed with every clink of his glass.

She had never really said she loved him, had she? She had smiled when he told her, but…

He felt his mind slip a bit as he took another swig. No, no. She had never loved him. He hadn’t loved her either. No. You can’t love someone you’ve only spent a month with. That had been his problem with women: too trusting and easily persuaded.

Not anymore, though. Not anymore.

He laughed out loud at that thought. All those women he had turned away – he secretly enjoyed rejecting them. If he could just make them feel a semblance of the pain he felt, it would all be okay.

“Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine,” he muttered blearily, laughing into his bottle – the glass lay forgotten and shattered on the floor.

He heard the door open behind him, the little bell over it ringing loudly.

“Go away, we’re closed,” he shouted, turning in his seat to see who had interrupted his misery.

She stood there in the doorway, her hair windblown from walking the streets, and her dress fluttering around her knees. His stomach swooped unpleasantly.

“Go away,” he repeated, slurring the words together slightly.

“I have to talk to you,” she said, stepping into the room.

“I’m all talked out, Ginny,” he replied, shaking the bottle in hopes of finding more whiskey.

“Please, please, I have to tell you,” she cried, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from him.

He stared at her. “Tell me what? You never told me anything. You’re not the kind that tells.”

Tears were glistening in her eyes now. “Please,” she whispered.

“No. Leave me alone. You’re good at that.”

An actual sob escaped her lips, and Draco felt his heart twist more firmly. “I was pregnant, Draco.”

His mind was blissfully blank from whiskey and tears and simply being close too her, but his lips parted slightly at her outburst. Its weight nestled into his brain and all he could muster was meeting those chocolate eyes with his own.

“I thought the baby was Harry’s. I’d told you myself that I thought it was cruel to take a child from its father, and so I went back to England.”

“I’m glad you’re so steadfast in your morals,” Draco spat, slamming down the bottle.

She cringed. “Draco…”

“What? What do you want me to say? I’m happy for you? That’s bloody fantastic! Bully for you and Potter and your procreating talents!”

“She’s yours!” Ginny screamed, standing up and red in the face. “She’s your child!”

His heart had stopped in his chest. She breathed heavily before him, her face flushed and angry and her hair wild. Another sob died in her throat. Before he could utter a word, she turned and fled The Dragon.

Author's Notes: Giant thanks to Embellished, my lovely beta. You are undeniably the best. Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing, especially those of you who leave one every chapter. Special thanks to shaded and 0630938 who left super long, thoughtful reviews.

Chapter 5: Whisper It

“You’re quite certain?” Luna asked, peering at her friend from across the room.

Ginny nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her face was tear-stained and dirty from walking along the streets. Her dress lay on the floor where she had taken it off, and she was now curled up under the blankets in her most comfortable pajamas.

Luna crossed the room and sat down at Ginny’s bed. She rubbed the other woman’s back, looking down at her with concern. “If you really want to stay longer, I can stay with you.”

Ginny shook her head against the pillow. “No,” she whispered, her throat burning with tears. “No, you have your wedding to plan.”

Luna nodded thoughtfully. “Yes. But that could always wait.”

Ginny shook her head. “You go home. I have some things to take care of here.”

Luna rubbed her back again, and Ginny smiled. “What did Kael say?”

Luna laughed lightly, her eyes lighting up beautifully. “His note said that I just had to come home right away, and he couldn’t spend another three days without me. Silly bugger. I expect a Dorffule Snauz has gotten a hold of his heart. Or perhaps he really does miss me.”

Ginny laughed. “I bet it’s the latter.”

Luna beamed at her. “I hope so.”

Ginny lay awake under the covers for a long time, peering out of them like an animal in a burrow. She tried to clear her mind of all thoughts and simply watch Luna pack up the few things she had bothered to unpack, but her mind kept turning back to Draco.

What was Draco doing in Prague? What were the chances that they both would have ended up here of all places? It was one thing to catch a glimpse of him on Platform 9¾, but this was almost unfair in its bizarreness.

Tears trickled with agonizing slowness down her cheeks and into the sweet-smelling blankets, and Ginny squeezed them shut. Her mind whirred violently, refusing to stop at a single thought. She saw flashes of them in Paris pasted over the image of him drowning his sorrows in a bottle at The Dragon. She hated to see him that way: cold and bitter and malicious, as if she herself had turned him back to his Hogwarts persona.

She thought of his eyes, cold and gray, shocked into blank staring. Why had she told him? Her entire soul had ached and throbbed to tell him, to make him understand. But he flattened her with that unreadable stare, and her heart, unable to bear another second of it, forced her to run away. Her soul would just have to suffer.

She thought of Lily, and understood with complete agony why she had latched on to the girl so tightly in the past ten years. Lily was her extension of Draco. Lily was how she had gotten through it. Those perfect, flawless days of Paris had been captured and packaged into her daughter, her Lily flower.

The softly fluttering hand of her friend was upon Ginny’s back once more, and she shivered slightly at the touch. She blinked to clear her eyes of the salty tears.

“Ginny,” Luna crooned softly. “I just thought you might like to know…the aura that Draco Malfoy radiates…it’s the same as your daughter’s.”

Ginny’s heart lurched again. She nodded into the pillow.

Luna hummed softly. “I thought so.” She paused. “He was giving off something else very powerful, but it was too overwhelming for me to touch. It was too big and intimate for me to discern it. Do you know what it might be?”

Ginny shook her head beneath her shelter of warmth.

“No, I thought not,” Luna said. She hummed for a little while more, and then bent down and kissed Ginny’s temple. “For courage, my friend.”

***

Ginny had told Luna that she had things to take care of, but she really didn’t know what they might be. Despite her heart’s abandon of The Dragon the previous evening, her soul was still churning with unbelievable strength.

It almost seemed to her as though some indisputable force had drawn her to Prague, and whatever it was she was meant to discover was still hidden somewhere in the beautiful, aged city.

Since that fated month in Paris, Ginny had ceased to like fall. The golden leaves and spicy smells had once added up to her favorite season, but Ginny had cringed each previous autumn. Just thinking about Paris made her die a little bit inside.

But as she strolled down the winding streets of Prague and breathed in the crisp air, Ginny felt her love of the season blossoming back inside her. Her mind flashed to those days in Paris, rolling around in the leaves, and fresh tears pricked her eyes.

She remembered, with a fresh wave of realization washing over her, the day Lily was born. She had looked down at the baby put into her arms. The fine tufts of hair had been so translucent a shade of red that they had almost looked blonde, and those eyes had opened and fixed such a breathtaking look upon their mother.

Ginny remembered staring back down at her daughter’s eyes in wonder, because they took her in with a look of such complete understanding that she doubted for an incoherent moment that she was looking into the face of a newborn.

She had handed her newborn daughter to Harry, and he had looked at her with a joy short of Ginny’s marveling. Ginny hadn’t been able to understand it.

With an ironic sense of bitterness, Ginny remembered Apparating back to England under the assumption that she was taking a child back to its father, when in reality she was taking the child away from her father.

How could she have never noticed how similar Lily was to Draco? Now that she knew, she realized another resemblance between them each second. She finally understood the nagging feeling that Harry had never been as close to Lily as he had been to the boys. She had often pegged it to the fact that Lily was a girl, but she could still fly and joke as well as either of her brothers. What if Lily had noticed it too? What if she had denied Lily the love of a true father?

A lone tear escaped and began to slide down her cheek, but Ginny wiped it away impatiently.

Why? Why am I here? What good could come from it? She cursed the hand of fate that had delivered Draco Malfoy back into her life.

What would become of her once Lily went to Hogwarts? The thought had crossed her mind on more than one occasion, but it frightened her so much that she pushed it out the way it came. But here, staring down a fork in the road and unsure where either one led, Ginny was forced to consider the reality.

What is the fork? What are my two choices? There weren’t black and white options here. There weren’t clear-cut sides, good versus evil. How could she make a decision?

If she stayed – which didn’t even seem like an option to her – she would be leaving behind her family and the life that she had settled into for nearly twenty years. She wasn’t the girl she had been ten years ago. She wasn’t reckless and carefree and in love. Ginny’s spinning mind paused briefly at the thought. Love? But then, she couldn’t have been in love ten years ago. She came to a stop in her stride as the word plagued her. Love. That had never been the way she thought of it.

Shaking her head, Ginny started walking again. Love. She had never said such a thing.

As her gait picked up speed again, her mind returned to its humming track. But if she returned, and Lily went off to Hogwarts, and she and Harry continued living like strangers under the same roof and in the same bed, could her heart and soul survive it?

At what cost would she pursue happiness? And where did it truly lie?

The sun had finally sunk behind the high-reaching buildings, and for the first time in ten years, Ginny turned off her swirling, melancholic thoughts and let her heart carry her feet where they may go.

It was far too late to be out when she finally found the place. The doors were shut, but not locked, and only the upstairs lights were on. Her heart was in her throat as her fingers grasped the handle of the door, but she didn’t pull it open immediately.

Thoughts raced in her head unheeded. She had disconnected that part of her brain. She didn’t know what she hoped to gain from approaching The Dragon again, but the doubting half of her brain wasn’t going to have a say in the matter. It had once before ruined her shot at happiness.

What had Luna said? For courage, my friend. Yes. She would have courage.

With a trembling hand she pulled at the door. The air inside the bar was heavier than the crisp night breeze. She inhaled, letting the weighted air settle in her chest before pushing through it toward the staircase and beginning what felt like a very long climb.

The door at the top of the stairs was ajar, and before she could stop herself she reached out a hand and pushed it open.

He sat at the desk, staring down at something with tears in his eyes. She felt her own tears rush in with the force of a flood as he looked up at her standing in the doorway. She shifted her gaze to the parchment on the desk, which she recognized even through her tears as the painting from by the river in Paris. A sob slipped from her lips, strangled by the courage she tried to hold in her heart.

He stood up from the chair at the sound of her cries, and she couldn’t stop herself from rushing across the room and burying her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, tucked his head into her neck and held her. She pulled herself closer to him and breathed in, crying like she hadn’t since that last day in Paris.

He kissed her temple and shushed her softly, almost carrying her over to the bed and sitting her down. She pulled back and looked at his face, slightly more lined than the last occasion she had taken the time to drink it in, and more reserved for certain, but still the same Draco Malfoy that she needed like the air she breathed.

She leaned forward and kissed him, tasting the salt of his tears across his lips. He melted into her, drawing her dizzyingly close and moaning in the back of his throat. When she reached for the top button of his shirt, he made no move to stop her.

***

It was as they lay together on his bed afterwards that they spoke for the first time. He was brushing hair back from her face when he whispered in her ear, “What’s she like?”

Ginny didn’t have to ask whom he was inquiring about. “She’s just like you. I just took so long to see it. She has your smirk and your eyes and your whole demeanor. She’s been my world these past ten years.”

His mouth twitched tentatively. “What’s her name?”

“Lily,” Ginny breathed.

He smiled down at her, kissing her shoulder blades as he had in Paris a decade before. “What’s her favorite color?”

Ginny smirked at him. “Green. Naturally.”

“Her birthday?”

“Twenty-seventh of June.”

“Does she have your hair?” he whispered as he ran his fingers through it.

Ginny nodded tearfully. “But there’s a little blonde in there too.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t know from the start.”

“I should have,” Ginny admitted. “Even as a baby, she had this stuffed green dragon she carried with her everywhere. George gave it to her as a joke, but she loved it.”

Draco let out a full and happy laugh, as if he were picturing his daughter toting around a toy dragon. “What’s her middle name?”

Ginny paused, turning to look up at him as he ran a finger down her spine. “Kaida,” she replied softly.

Draco’s eyes darkened as he stared down at her. “In Japanese, that – that means…”

“Little dragon, I know,” Ginny told him, her eyes tearing again. “Before I knew she was yours, I just wanted a permanent way to leave you in my life. No one understood why I chose that name.”

Draco shook his head, letting the tears fall down his cheeks as they had when he had talked about Celia in the French restaurant. “Is she as beautiful as you are?”

Ginny laughed softly. “She’s more beautiful.”

Draco shook his head. “Impossible.”

“Not for our daughter.”

They lay together for a long while in silence, Ginny unbelievably content to lie in his arms and forget the world. Her one true shot at happiness. It had almost been handed to her.

She shivered slightly as his fingers continued to explore her body, followed closely by his lips. Something dangerously familiar was swelling in her chest, something that she had undeniably felt ten years ago, but had never expressed. Even as she lay in his arms, it seemed too unreal to be true, but she understood it now. She knew that this was genuine.

“I love you.”

Author's Notes: Firstly, the continuing praise to my beta Embellished. Then, to fallenwitch who continues to encourage and push me, even from afar. Thanks to all of you who read and leave me to ponder your thoughts. And finally, thanks to Mars, TwistedPixie, dgloves70 and DracoGinnyLover, who have been reviewing faithfully throughout the whole story. This chapter is the end to the unofficial first half of the story. But that really doesn't mean anything.

Chapter 6: Written in the Stars

Draco looked down at her, trailing a finger along the arch of her neck as the golden autumn moon spilled through the open window, bathing the bed in its soft glow. Her fiery curls fell across the pristine white sheets, and Draco gently tangled his hand in them.

He had thought he hadn’t heard her properly. The words had rung loudly in his ears as he stared at her with wide eyes. Draco hadn’t dared to believe he had those words, as soft and fleeting as a breeze. He hadn’t even been able to force his brain to ask her to repeat them. How dangerous it could be to believe or take faith in such words. He had made that mistake before.

But she had smiled at him, with slow and sweet understanding, and reached up to run her fingers through his hair. She had whispered again, “I love you.”

And he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He had leaned down and kissed her without hesitation or reservation. He had kissed her like he hadn’t kissed a girl in ten years.

A sigh heavy with reckless contentment and satisfaction slipped from his mouth. He pressed his lips against her shoulder blades, his eyes fluttering closed. Nestled up against his fiery witch, the awakened dragon drifted into a peaceful slumber.

***

He didn’t know the winding streets of Prague as well as he had those of Paris. Even if he did, Draco didn’t think he would have been able to find anything while Ginny’s fingers were intertwined with his. It was better that way, though, because they were discovering the city together.

He thought his heart might burst with happiness as she giggled and tugged him along the street. The autumn air swirled about them, light and crisp and smelling of the Vltava River. Ginny’s long flowing hair caught and held the early morning sunlight, and it was all Draco could do to keep from staring at it.

“It’s beautiful here,” she said earnestly, throwing her head back and looking at the sky. To him, she appeared the same as ten years ago. Her hair was a little longer and there were the faintest beginnings of lines around her eyes, but she looked exactly like the witch who had twirled through the streets of Paris with him.

“It’s been good for me.” He paused. “Although I don’t think I’ve appreciated it as much as I could have.”

Ginny smiled curiously, squeezing his hand a little tighter. “Why not?”

“I could never find anything quite as beautiful anymore, after I spent a month with you,” he mumbled, embarrassed but determined. “Something’s missing when you’re not there.”

She blushed a delicate pink, looking pleased. He wanted to wrap his arm around her waist, but he couldn’t make himself do it. Draco wanted to be the man he had been in Paris, but he couldn’t seem to find him. That man had been lost so long ago. He had thought that Ginny had stolen his heart, and that being back with her would bring back his adventurous, Paris spirit. But Draco felt oddly hesitant to find that long-lost part of himself.

Ginny seemed to sense his uncertainties and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “I love you.”

That swelling feeling rose in his chest again, and Draco couldn’t keep his face from breaking into a grin. “I love you too.”

He grabbed her hand again and led her along the river, approaching the bridge, the only place he had ever become attached to while living in Prague. An eerie sound floated over the water, coming softly at first but ringing in their ears as they drew closer to the bridge.

“What is that?” Ginny craned her neck, eyebrows raised as the beautiful music continued to play.

Draco smiled mischievously, something his younger self might have done, and winked at her. “You’ll see.”

He pulled her through the people ambling across the bridge toward the middle, where a crowd had gathered around something along the water’s edge. They weaved in between the groups of tourists and locals, toward the front of the throng. Ginny’s eyes widened as she took in the scene.

A man younger than either of them stood bent over a large table. His brow was intensely furrowed and nearly hidden beneath a shaggy mop of unruly brown hair. Before him was a table creaking under the weight of a hundred crystal goblets, each filled with a different amount of water and glinting in the rising sun. His fingers moved without ceasing across the rims of the glasses, swooping down upon each one. His dark eyes flashed behind thick, blue-rimmed glasses as his fingers moved in a blur. There wasn’t a second when music was not resounding from the goblets, and his hands were spread over the rims of at least five glasses at once. He played with such passion, as though he was alone, that it felt almost indecent to be watching him.

Ginny’s eyes followed his movements as though hypnotized, her head swaying along with the otherworldly melody. The ruffled collar of her dress fluttered in the breeze and the skirt was gracefully blown in between her knees. Draco smiled, overcome with contentment as the music rang in his ears, and wrapped both arms around her waist, resting his chin on top of Ginny’s head. She leaned into him and put her hand over his across her waist.

The music, while eerie and mysterious, was undeniably magnificent, and Draco thought that only certain people might be able to recognize the beauty in it. Beauty, he realized, was not always clear-cut and shallow. It could be imprecise and far deeper than one might imagine.

When the young man had finished his song, Ginny tilted her head back to look at Draco. “It’s incredible.”

He nodded, and grasped her hand, leading her back through the crowd. They strolled to the other side of the bridge, past other musicians and artists, into the cobbled center near the clock tower.

Draco caught sight of a stooped old man in a striped flat hat, holding the reins of a carriage-tethered horse. Laughing, Draco lifted Ginny up onto the carriage and paid the man with Muggle bills before climbing up beside her. He felt as though the impulses his younger self might have experienced every day were slowly creeping back up to the surface of his mind. Bit by bit, he was learning how to live again. It was like a thick coat of dust was being lifted from his soul. No one but Ginny could have provoked such a change.

They clopped along the twisting streets, hidden under the shade of wide-reaching branches adorned with auburn leaves. Ginny slouched low in her seat and snuggled into the crook of his arm, breathing deeply and smiling at every corner’s turn.

When they finished the tour, Ginny hopped off and danced along the street, twirling with uncontained delight. Draco’s breath caught in his chest as her red hair fanned out and her dress flew up.

It was late afternoon when they found themselves ambling back toward The Dragon. They stopped and bought ice cream and held hands as they made their way through now-familiar streets.

“Do you remember the day when you took me to that garden?” Ginny asked, catching trickling drops of raspberry ice cream with her tongue.

Draco nodded. “I remember.”

“What do you remember best?” she asked, swinging their hands back and forth as she would have in Paris.

“I remember everything,” he told her.

“But nothing in particular stands out?”

He stared at her thoughtfully. “I remember every day perfectly.” He paused, watching her lip slip down into a playful pout, and smiled. “But I loved that day we got caught in the rain on our way back from the theater.”

Ginny laughed. “The day when I pushed you into the fountain?”

Draco nodded sheepishly. “You falling in too made it worth it.”

“You were the most adorable soaked man,” she teased, licking her lips as she finished her cone.

He shrugged. Ten years ago, he might have made a comment about how she had looked in her soaked through dress. It was certainly vivid in his mind. But they weren’t so young and carefree anymore. It left him feeling strangely unsure of where he belonged.

Ginny squeezed his hand, trying to bridge the heavy silence as she had before, and Draco smiled. But uncertainty welled up in him. The sun was starting to set, and it made him feel panicky for some reason.

It was going to be much harder for her to leave now than it would have been ten years ago. After all, she had a life and three children waiting for her. She had left then, when it could have been much simpler, and it terrified him that she would leave again.

But one of her children was his. His daughter. He wanted her almost as much as he wanted Ginny, even though he had never set eyes on her.

But all Ginny had given him was her love. She hadn’t said she was staying with him, or that she was bringing their daughter. The sun was setting on their day, and while it had once illuminated their love in the bright hours, as it set Draco was left feeling as if he held nothing. He had empty promises and memories. The same as before.

He looked up to see Ginny staring at him, and his melancholy must have shown on his face. She stopped them and looked up at his face.

“What is it?” she asked.

Her face was happy and flushed, and Draco almost couldn’t bear to ruin it. He took in every inch of her, from her knee-high gray boots to her ruffled navy dress to her windblown tendrils of red hair. He wanted her. He wanted all of her. He had been hesitant and unsure all day, since those whispered words in the early hours of the morning, afraid to jump in for fear of being too invested. But he realized, as he stared at her, that he was invested. He was all in, with both feet, and he could very well drown. But he had to try his hardest to tread water.

“What are you going to do, Gin?”

As he had predicted, her face fell. Her eyes softened, and her expression seemed to crumple at his words. She took his hand again and pulled him along the street beside her.

“I’ve been thinking about it all day,” she said quietly, in the tone that she used when she was trying very hard not to cry. It made Draco’s chest hurt to think that she might cry. “I really don’t know.”

His heart clenched. “You don’t.” He meant to say it as a question, but it came out flat and lifeless.

She shook her head. “I have a life in England. My whole family, and my boys, and my friends…”

Draco’s heart hurt with every throb, pains so sharp that it took every ounce of control he possessed to keep from gasping.

“But I love you,” she told him, sincerity real and ringing in her words.

He inhaled hard through his nose and faced her. If he couldn’t tell her now, he would never get it out.

“I love you. I don’t think I could make it if you left again. I’ve done it before, I could probably do it again. But looking at it from this angle, I want to say it doesn’t seem possible.”

He had to stop because the sight of tears trickling down her cheeks always hit him like a blow to the stomach. Say it.

“I want you to go back to England. Get things in order. Do whatever you have to do. I want you to come back, but if you aren’t back in two weeks…” he paused, not sure if he could truly get it out. “…I’ll know you’re not coming back.”

In the end, she agreed. He hugged her tight and let her go, watching her as she walked all the way down the street and around the corner to her hotel. A swinging lock of fiery hair was the last he saw of her, and he prayed to God it wouldn’t be the last time.

***

The two weeks had been something akin to a living hell. What had he been thinking, giving her two weeks? He could be waiting two weeks for nothing, hoping and praying only to wake up on the fourteenth day and know he was going to experience this agony for the rest of his life.

The Dragon’s business had suffered from his tumultuous mood. All the bartenders, except for Shane, had made a point of staying out of his way as he raged through the club each night. He had kept to his room mostly, mainly because he didn’t want to risk seeing a customer like Kovar. Who knew what he would say to someone he loathed so much while in one of his moods?

It was the fourteenth day. He had sent Shane home early, saying that he would clean up himself. The rag that he was using to wipe down the counters was already dirty. It was accomplishing nothing but keeping his hands busy.

She wasn’t coming. Two weeks had come and gone, and now he was left with a bar that reminded him of her just as much as the dead city of Paris had. What would he do now? Move again?

He had been afraid to let tears fall, because that would mean resignation. That would mean that she really wasn’t coming back. That she was gone for good.

But he let them fall now, splashing against the bar with unreal volume. He couldn’t even bring himself to take out the Firewhisky.

Draco would go back to sleep. In ten years, he would be fine again. That wasn’t so long from now. He had slept through the past ten years – nothing was stopping him from doing that again. He couldn’t possibly love her any more than he had in Paris.

Except he did. He loved her with his whole heart, but he also loved the girl he had never seen that was somehow a part of him. Maybe this gash to his heart would take fifty years to sleep off.

A loud ring sounded through his anguish, causing him to look up from the bar. He turned around slowly, not daring to hope. Hope would well up in his chest, and then he would turn to find Shane standing there, because he forgot something. So he turned slowly, with nothing but cool indifference.

She was standing in the doorway, as she had two weeks earlier, clutching a suitcase in either hand. He saw that she too was crying, tears running in rivulets down her porcelain cheeks.

She moved forward, and from behind her stepped a small redheaded girl, a suitcase of her own in one hand and a green dragon in the other.

Author's Notes: Well, the response for the last chapter was absolutely amazing. I have never been more pleased with how the readers replied to a chapter, and for that, I thank every single one of you who reviewed. Each of you is incredible. I want to thank more of my very consistent reviewers, including nikisasilverrain, nun outfits are cool, shaded, and shans12342002. Additionally, the three women who continue to make time for me and this story despite their incredibly hectic lives: Alexsandra, Embellished, and fallenwitch. You three are amazing. And now, on with the story.

Chapter 7: Dark Horizons

She was running, she realized, through complete darkness. She wasn’t running from something, as was the custom in her nightmares, but towards it. Doors suddenly surrounded her, and she screamed as they began to spin. The red crosses blurred together until there was just a gash of crimson running across her vision. Her hand flew to her mouth as she felt like she might be sick.

When they finally stopped spinning, she ran to each one and shook the handle, but they all remained firmly locked. By the last door, she was crying and shaking and pleading with some unseen force. Whatever it was, she had to make it understand.

The last door burst open, but before relief could flood into her heart, she caught sight of who had opened it. Her mother stood in the doorway, and behind her a sea of redheaded people. They all shook their heads, yelling in befuddled language.

“I’m sorry,” Ginny moaned, sinking to the floor.

Her two sons pushed past her other family and stood in front of her mother, crying.

“No,” Ginny whimpered. “No, you must understand.”

But they shook their heads and spoke words she couldn’t comprehend.

She caught sight of Harry pushing through the crowd, and his dulled green eyes found hers. For a moment, they flashed a brilliant and terrible green, not unlike their color in his adolescent years. But it somehow reminded Ginny of something else – of a spell she hadn’t seen performed in twenty years. Avada Kedavra.

She awoke, gasping and shaking under a sheen of cold sweat, to the sight of a brilliant moon pouring into the bedroom. She gathered the sheets to her chest and looked down at the man sleeping beside her.

He was breathing peacefully, sleeping on his stomach with a smile on his face. She hoped he was dreaming about her.

Ginny reached down and ran a hand through his blond hair, slowing her breathing and her racing heart. She felt his body rise and fall beneath her hands, and a contented sigh escaped her lips.

Of course, the burning green of her dream paralleled her confrontation with Harry. Part of her was still so in shock from it that she couldn’t face it. She had never been more frightened in her life than when he had clenched his fists in a blind rage and shattered the giant mirror in their bedroom with raw magic. Even after he had calmed down several hours later and found her curled up on the couch, he had been colder than she had ever seen him. Of course, she could understand that. It simply saddened her that he chose now, once she was leaving, to give up his apathy.

Even more than the awful flash of green, the sobbing faces of her sons shook Ginny. They had been confused and hurt, to say the least, when she told them gently over Christmas that she and Harry were getting a divorce. James had gaped at her for a moment before burning a hole through her heart with a withering stare. He had turned on his heel and run up the stairs, making sure to slam the door loudly behind him.

Albus’s emerald eyes had filled with tears, and his bottom lip shook. “Don’t you love us?” he had whispered pitifully.

It made Ginny’s chest shake with silent sobs just to think about it. She had gathered him in her arms and cried. “Of course I love you.”

She hadn’t tried to explain where she was going or with whom. That was something she would try to tackle over the Easter break. Someday, she hoped fervently, they would understand. Perhaps after they had suffered broken hearts as well, although she hoped such a fate never befell them.

A loud tapping broke through her thoughts, and Ginny whirled in bed to look behind her, still clutching the sheet to her body.

A large brown owl was swaying gracefully in the nighttime wind outside their window, and with a feeling of dread seeping into her chest, Ginny slid out of bed and made her way towards it.

She pushed the glass open and the bird swooped into the room, landing softly on the back of Draco’s chair. She approached it hesitantly, afraid of what its deathly sharp talons might bear.

“Hello, Idris,” she crooned, reaching out a hand to stroke him. He hooted quietly, holding out his leg.

Ginny took the letter, breathing deeply before cracking the seal. She recognized the scrawl, still untidy after so many years.

Ginny,

The boys are back at Hogwarts. They were glad to see you. I’ve enclosed the papers finalizing everything. I suppose we’ll see you over the Easter hols. We’ll talk about you coming home then.

Give Lily my love.

Harry

She let the second piece of parchment fall out of the envelope and unfolded it. There, in tiny print, was her name and his. Her name looked oddly lonely without “Potter” slapped on to the end of it. The gradual ache building in her chest made her wonder if she had made the right choice.

She turned around as Draco moaned softly in his sleep, rolling over and reaching blindly for her. No, she was right to be here.

Tears stung her eyes as she looked upon the letter once more. His letters were a little shakier at the last sentence.

Give Lily his love, she thought bitterly. Of course now, once he couldn’t have her, Harry was interested in loving Lily. Now that she was Draco’s, Harry wanted to be the father. The irony tore at her inside.

And then there was his open denial of her leaving. We’ll talk about you coming home then. How could he think she would return? After the horrible things he had said and the poisonous names he had called her, how could he ever believe that she would come back?

After his fit of blind rage, in which he had raised his fist and only recoiled at the sound of her scream, he had treated her with a cold indifference, speaking as if she were simply going on holiday.

She tossed the letter in the crackling fire and slipped the paper into Draco’s desk drawer. Idris tilted his head and hooted sharply, but Ginny shook her head.

“I won’t be replying,” she told him.

He fixed a glare on her, but swooped out as quietly as he had come, and Ginny crawled back into bed and nestled into Draco’s arms.

***

“You’re certain it’s safe for her?” he muttered nervously, tugging on his gloves.

Ginny laughed, continuing to dice up the vegetables. “Of course it’s safe. She’s been flying since before she could walk.”

His mouth opened slightly, color draining from his face. “What were you thinking?” he demanded. “Children can’t fly when they’re that young!”

Ginny threw him a smirk over her shoulder. “As adorable as the concerned father look is on you, will you please hurry up? She’s really looking forward to this.”

Draco slumped into one of the kitchen chairs, rubbing his face miserably. “What if she hates me?”

Ginny bit back a laugh and turned around to face him, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Don’t be thick. We’ve been here for a month. She already adores you. You’re just afraid to see it.”

“I’m rubbish at this father shite,” he insisted.

She lowered herself into his lap, perching on his knees, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re wonderful. You both love flying. Just take your daughter flying. It’s something for the two of you to bond over. Just try? For me?” she added, letting her ponytail of red curls brush against his neck.

His eyes darkened and he moved forward to kiss her. It was slow and sweet and made Ginny tremble. Oh, she could get used to being kissed like this. The delicious tingles traveling up her spine felt almost dangerous.

“Ugh,” moaned a small voice behind them. “Bloody-”

“Watch your language, you,” Ginny cut her daughter off, whirling around in Draco’s lap. She looked adorable, with her red hair in braids and clad from head to toe in orange Quidditch gear. Draco groaned somewhere near Ginny’s ear.

“What is she wearing?” he demanded, pushing Ginny off his lap and standing up. “The Cannons?”

Lily smiled proudly. “I love the Cannons.”

“But they’re awful!” Draco said, aghast. “What about the Falcons?”

Lily’s lower lip was jutting out and her jaw was set defiantly. Ginny threw Draco a sharp look. Her daughter’s eyes were churning a dark, turbulent gray, and it made Ginny nervous.

Before she could say anything consoling, Draco crouched down before Lily. “What do you say we go out and I buy you brand new Quidditch gear? I know green’s your favorite color.” He smiled at her, and swept a fallen wisp of hair away from her eyes. Lily’s face broke into an uncertain grin.

“All new gear in green? No one ever lets me have me have green! Especially not Dad – I mean Harry.”

She caught her mistake quickly enough, but the fallen look on Draco’s face and the frightened one on Lily’s were enough to break Ginny’s heart. Ginny had told Lily that it was okay to call Harry her dad still, but the girl had insisted on calling Draco “Dad.”

“If he’s my real Daddy, I want to call him Daddy,” Lily had insisted on their first week in Prague. It made Draco smile uncontrollably every time she did.

“Come on, little dragon,” Draco said consolingly, taking her hand. “Go upstairs and change, and we’ll go buy all new Quidditch things.”

She smiled brightly and turned to run back up the stairs. Draco stood up and shrugged.

“It’s bound to happen,” he said softly. Ginny crossed the room and hugged him tightly, threading her fingers through his hair and kissing his cheek.

“You are incredible.”

“Once, you said I was perfect,” he replied cheekily, pulling her back and taking in her face.

Ginny laughed tearfully, pushing at his shoulder playfully. “I was young and naïve then. Everything seems perfect in Paris.”

“We should move there,” Draco murmured, burying his face in her neck.

Ginny laughed throatily. “Very sneaky of you, by the way. Offering green Quidditch gear. Already have her set up for Slytherin, do you?”

“You noticed that, eh?” he replied, smiling smugly.

“If you’re kissing, stop it!” Lily’s voice yelled from around the corner.

“We’re not, I promise!” Ginny called back.

“Thank Merlin,” she sighed, marching into the kitchen in her magenta winter coat that made her look like an employee of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

“You ready?” Draco asked uncertainly.

Lily just smiled and walked past him towards the stairs. Draco raised his eyebrows in a look of disbelief but hurried after his daughter as she cleared her throat from the corridor.

***

The two had strolled back in from their shopping trip and flying session pink-faced and laughing, and the sight had tugged at Ginny’s heartstrings. They had spent the better part of a month getting to know each other, Draco the hesitant father and Lily the confident, eager to please daughter. It was easy to see, after over a month in Prague, that Lily loved Draco just as much as Ginny did. Never had she been around someone who was so interested in making her happy. He courted her as he had courted Ginny ten years previously, taking her to the zoo and movies and to have snowball fights outside the Dragon. Everything he bought her was a shade of emerald, and Ginny had never seen her daughter so happy. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who wanted to be wanted.

The bartenders of The Dragon came to enjoy Lily’s presence nearly as much as Draco said they loved Scorpius’s. Draco would not let her stay past nine, as he might have with his son, but only, as he told Ginny, because he didn’t want any of “those arseholes” leering at her.

Near the end of January, on a day when Draco was out doing business for the Dragon, Ginny spent the day unpacking the last of the belongings she had brought back over Christmas. Removing each item from its box, Ginny felt a strange twinge in her chest. Harry had stayed with Ron and Hermione while she spent a few days packing up what was hers and Lily’s and spending time with the boys. But when Ginny pulled out an old jumper of Albus’s that she had packed on accident, she curled up in Draco’s chair for nearly an hour and cried.

Around noon, she wandered down the corridor to ask her daughter if she wanted some lunch. Her bedroom had once been the broom closet, but Draco had magically expanded it to serve as her bedroom. At any rate, the cramped room constantly served as a reminder to Ginny that they would need to figure out another arrangement sooner rather than later.

She pushed open the door to see the girl lying across the floor, poring over an old photo album Ginny had thought to bring with her to Prague. Lily looked up and gave Ginny a small smile.

“Hey, sweetie,” Ginny said softly. She crouched down beside Lily on the floor. “What are you doing?”

Lily rubbed at her eyes roughly. “Just looking at pictures,” she replied.

Ginny nodded. She looked down at her family waving at her, her mother in the front, kissing a squirming James on the cheek while Lily and Albus laughed. She heard Lily sniffle beside her, but when she looked up the girl wore a straight face.

“I miss Grandma,” Lily whispered.

“It’s okay to miss people, honey,” Ginny told her, taking her into her lap and kissing her temple.

“But I like it here. Daddy’s here. I like him,” Lily insisted.

And that’s where Ginny saw the flaw in her plan. Lily didn’t want to leave Draco, and she associated leaving for England with leaving her new father.

“I don’t want to leave him, Mummy,” Lily said into her mother’s chest. “I reckon he needs us.”

“I reckon you’re right,” Ginny replied. “But I’ll talk to him, yeah? I know you love everyone back home.”

“But if we go, Daddy will come with us?” Lily whimpered.

“Yes, angel. Yes he will.”

There was something else churning in Lily’s eyes, and Ginny could tell she didn’t know how to broach the subject. Perhaps she was too afraid of the answer. Ginny knew better than to press her on it.

But it frightened Ginny, because with that unreadable look, Lily also stared at her with a faint omniscience, like she had as a newborn. It made Ginny feel like her daughter could see right through her.

***

Ginny didn’t work up the courage to bring up the subject with Draco until three days later, when Lily was outside playing in the snow and they were both in the kitchen. The silence between them was oddly comfortable, a stark contrast from the strained ones between Ginny and Harry.

“Draco,” Ginny began uncertainly. She felt like she was uncertain all the time now. As if everything hung in the balance of her choices as of late. “I found Lily going through the family album a couple of days ago.”

He looked up, not because of her words, but because of her tone. His eyes were concerned and his pale brow furrowed as he lay down his book. He nodded for her to continue.

Ginny took a deep breath. “She misses England. It’s her home, and she needs to be there. But she doesn’t want to go without you.”

His blank stare burned through her, as it had in The Dragon when she had said Lily was his, or that night in his bed when she had told him she loved him. By now, it had ceased to frighten her, but it still set her nerves further on edge with each passing second.

Oh God, please. I left everything behind for you. Couldn’t you just leave behind one thing for me?

She knew that if he chose to stay behind, she would have to as well. She didn’t know what she would do with Lily, but she couldn’t go back now. She needed him, and she had a feeling Lily did, too.

“I left England behind a long time ago, Ginny,” he replied softly. His response was not an answer, merely a statement. And even though Ginny knew this, it broke her heart to hear him say it.

“I know,” she blurted. “I know. But, Lily…”

He nodded. She could tell it was incredibly difficult for him to consider such a thing.

“And, if nothing else, don’t you want her to go to Hogwarts?”

He looked up at her, and in an instant, Ginny knew that had been the wrong thing to say. “I don’t give a shite if she never attends that bloody school,” he said coldly.

“No, Draco, I didn’t mean-” she pleaded. “Please, just…for Lily?”

He stared at her for a long time, and she forced herself to keep from breaking eye contact. At last, he nodded slowly, reaching for her hand.

He traced circles across her palm with his thumb. “For Lily.”

Author's Notes: Thanks to Embellished, who’s working on her own story as well as this one, and to all of the readers who have been so gracious to me with their reviews. I hope they continue.

Chapter 8: The Real Goodbye

It was strange, he thought, that he could pack his life into five cardboard boxes. Ginny had brought at least ten back from England over Christmas. The majority of his boxes were filled with books, yellowed and faded after nearly twenty years of accompanying him through life. The rest were filled with clothes, random possessions, a letter, and a painting.

The bedroom looked almost the same as it always did. The bookshelf only hosted cobwebs now, and the bed was stripped of its dressings, but the furniture remained undisturbed. It was funny how little impact the absence of his life had on the room.

Draco lingered in the doorway, letting his eyes sweep over his sanctuary of the past ten years. He was glad that Shane agreed to buy The Dragon from him, for he wouldn’t have felt right leaving it with anyone else; the bar had been his life. What lay in the five boxes in the corner was relatively unimportant; all that mattered to him were the two girls downstairs, the boy in the middle of Scotland, and the building that had sheltered him after the torn and twisted days of Paris.

But in order to keep his two girls, he would have to give up the building. And Draco was okay with that. He just hadn’t known it would be so hard.

He tore his gaze from the room and made his way down the curving staircase, his fingers gripping the mahogany tightly. His heart flipped in his chest at the sight of the redheaded witch talking with Shane at the bottom of the stairs, her hands gesturing animatedly as the bartender nodded and smiled. The sunlight pouring through the windows fell upon her, and Draco saw the glint of the emerald on her left hand.

He ran his thumb over his own silver wedding band. It had been a beautiful, albeit quiet, ceremony. The streets outside the church had been darkened and silent as the priest proclaimed them man and wife to an empty church. Even their daughter, who had fallen asleep in the front pew, had missed the declaration. But Draco hadn’t cared. If they were moving back to England, he was taking Ginny back as his wife. Nothing, not even Potter, would be able to take her from him then.

Shane looked up and nodded at Draco, and Ginny turned to follow his gaze, her eyes lighting up magnificently as they landed on him.

“All packed?” she asked, smoothing her sweater nervously.

He nodded. “All packed.” The words came out roughly as his voice caught in his throat.

Shane’s eyes twinkled. “She’s in good hands,” he said to Draco. “And so are you,” he added, pulling Ginny into a hug.

“We’re not leaving quite yet,” Draco said a little sharply. Something about the idea of leaving made him panicky. “Would you mind watching Lily for a little while? I want to…walk around a bit.”

Shane grinned. “Sure thing.” He turned to look at the little girl, who was busy running around saying goodbye to her favorite objects in the bar. “The place is going to miss her.”

“She’ll miss it,” Ginny said quietly.

Draco reached for her hand, and she squeezed his cold fingers with her warm ones. “We’ll be back in an hour,” he told Shane.

He pulled Ginny out of the bar by the hand, and the two strolled down the avenue, late-winter snow crunching beneath their boots.

“I’m going to miss it here,” Ginny offered, breaking several minutes of silence.

Draco nodded, trying his best not to look miserable. “I will too.”

She let go of his hand and fell backwards right into the snow. Bemused, he looked down as she waved her legs and arms together to create a mangled angel in the pristine drifts of white. When she had finished thrashing about, she just lay there, completely content in the frigid cold.

“Anyone ever told you that you’re mad?” he teased, holding out a hand to help her up.

“Quite a few, actually,” she replied cheekily, ignoring his outstretched hand. Instead, she patted the ground beside her.

Sighing in defeat, Draco collapsed into the snow. “Now wave your arms,” Ginny instructed in a childish voice.

“I refuse to belittle myself in such a way,” Draco responded petulantly.

Ginny gave him a stern look, but he merely returned it with a smirk. She giggled lightly, shaking her head, before letting her lip slip into an adorable little pout. Draco groaned, looking away from her, but resignedly began to swing his limbs.

The two ambled through the streets of Prague, crossing the Charles Bridge where they had seen the man with the hundred goblets, and passing the clock tower where they had shared lunch together a dozen times. They paused at each place, silently grateful to the city for bringing them together after ten years apart.

As they worked their way across the frozen park where they had taken Lily on a picnic one autumn afternoon, Draco pushed aside the misery boiling in his chest to consider something else on his mind. Ever since Lily had started calling him Dad, he had thought about changing her last name. Now that he and Ginny were married, it seemed especially important. The very thought of Potter’s surname attached to his little girl was enough to make Draco vomit in the snow, but he knew approaching the subject that way wouldn’t impress Ginny. He was slowly working up the courage to ask her outright.

As she kicked through the snow, he squeezed her hand a little tighter and she looked up and smiled at him. He returned the smile almost warily, and cleared his throat to speak.

“Gin, I – er – I was wondering, if you’d given any thought to changing Lily’s name?” he mumbled in a blur, rounding off his statement like a question.

She gave him an odd look. “No, I rather like Lily.”

Draco gave a nervous titter. “No. No, I meant her surname.”

“Oh!” Ginny exclaimed, and her eyebrows rose in surprise. “No, I suppose I hadn’t thought about it.”

Draco didn’t know what to say to that, and returned to staring at his feet as they trudged through the snow. Ginny tugged at his hand.

“But I understand why you would have,” she told him softly. She sighed. “I’m all right with it. You’ll just have to talk to Lily.”

Draco nodded, giving her a little half smile. “I’ll take her out later this afternoon. Before we leave.”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his chest, and the two of them walked all the way back to the Dragon like that.

***

“Why are we here again?” Lily asked, wrinkling her nose adorably as she brought her face close to the glass.

“I want you to have something from Prague, so that you won’t forget even after we’ve been in England for a long time,” Draco replied, walking along the counter, peering down at the jewelry.

“But my Quidditch things are from Prague,” Lily insisted. “And my broomstick. Those are special things.”

Draco looked back at her, his mouth quirked into an impressed smile. She was quick, his daughter.

“Yes, but those things won’t last forever. You’ll outgrow your gear, and you’ll need a bigger broom when you’re older. I want this to last forever.”

Lily cocked her head, her blue eyes narrowed and calculating. It made Draco nervous to have her staring at him so intently. “Okay,” she replied simply, returning her gaze to the sparkling gems behind the glass.

The two of them perused the expanse of counters in silence for some time before Draco came across a case of emerald necklaces. “Come here, dragon.”

Lily took her time strolling past the other displays, a mischievous smile playing across her lips once she joined Draco. He raised a single eyebrow, and she mimicked the gesture.

Laughing, Draco lifted her up to sit on the counter. She swung her legs through the air below her. “What do you think of those?” Draco asked, pointing down at the twinkling sparks of green.

She twisted to bend over the glass, her eyes assessing each piece. Draco tapped his foot with something akin to nervousness, and when she sat up again she shrugged.

“They’re okay,” Lily offered.

Draco looked back down at the case, bemused. “Okay?”

Lily nodded, jumping back down to the floor. “They’re all right.”

“All right,” Draco repeated. “Well, that would look nice on you, don’t you think?” he suggested, pointing to a necklace glittering with diamonds and emeralds.

“You mean, to wear?” Lily asked incredulously.

Draco nodded. “Of course to wear, dragon. What did you think you’d do with it?”

Lily shrugged. “I thought it was just for me to remember.”

He shook his head. “No, no. This is for you to wear.”

Lily considered him for a moment, as if trying to decide if he was joking or not. “Well, I saw something I liked back there,” she said finally, turning to walk back through the counters.

Draco followed her, bewildered as always by his daughter, until she stopped at a case and pointed through the glass. Throwing her a look as she smirked at him, Draco bent over the glass and peered at what she was indicating.

Nestled near the very back, nearly hidden behind what looked like a very expensive diamond bracelet, was a delicate white gold chain hosting a most unusual charm. The long strand of white gold was twisted into an elaborate S shape, making it look almost like a serpent. At the head of the strand, two tiny emeralds glittered like eyes, and nestled at its core was a dark red stone.

“Your daughter has exquisite taste,” said a woman from behind the counter. Her graying hair was severely pulled back, but her eyes were a soft brown.

“Yeah, she does,” Draco said uncertainly, still staring at the necklace with something like awe. Lily smiled proudly. “What’s that stone in the middle?” Draco asked, looking up.

“A garnet,” the woman supplied. “The stone of fire.”

Draco inhaled sharply, staring down at the stone as it seemed to stare back up at him. Lily’s mouth spread into a wicked grin. “So I can have it then?”

He nodded dumbly before fishing out a sack of galleons to hand to the woman.

Lily fidgeted as Draco fastened the necklace around her throat, pressing her fingers against the charm as it settled against her skin.

He hoisted her onto his back as they plodded back to The Dragon through the snow. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her cold, red nose into his shoulder. Draco felt as if the swelling in his chest left little room to breathe.

“Hey, Lily?” Draco ventured, adjusting her on his back.

“Yeah?” she replied, drawing out the word.

“You know, your mum’s surname is the same as mine, now that we’ve gotten married, don’t you?”

“Uh huh,” she replied with a patient air.

“Well, I was just wondering if you would maybe change your surname, too. That is, if you want to.” The words tumbled out of his mouth, and once he had said them, he wished he could take them back and figure out a more eloquent way to string them all together.

She was silent for a long time. “My last name wouldn’t be Potter anymore, then?” she said finally.

A sinking feel erupted in Draco’s chest. “Well, no,” he said rather lamely.

“I wouldn’t have the same name as James or Albus?”

Draco shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

“Yeah, Dad. That would be okay,” she replied, nestling more firmly into his back. “But do you think, maybe, that I could have both names?”

“Both names?” Draco repeated dumbly.

“Yeah,” Lily said quietly, sliding down from his back. He turned around to look at her. “Like Lily Potter Malfoy?”

Potter Malfoy? Draco couldn’t help but gag at the sound of it. The irony of it struck him like a blow to the stomach. His and his nemesis’s last names trapped together for all eternity by his daughter? It was beyond bizarre.

But as she stared up at him with those twinkling blue eyes, Draco felt himself give in completely. At least his name was last…

“Sure, little dragon. That sounds just fine to me.”

She laughed almost angelically before clambering back up onto his back. Draco heaved a sigh but ended up snorting a laugh as she continued to giggle.

They spilled back into The Dragon, laughing and dragging in snow with them. Lily staggered off his back and began shedding her layers of clothing. She looked around wildly, finally catching sight of her mother spinning around on one of the barstools, looking at something in her hands.

“Mummy! Mummy! Look what Dad bought me,” she gushed, bounding forward and holding out the chain. But Ginny didn’t look up from the parchment that she was holding so tightly. Lily faltered at the look on her mother’s face. “Mum…?”

Tears were leaking out of Ginny’s eyes, but when she looked up she wore as beautiful a smile as Draco had ever seen.

“What is it, Gin?” Draco moved forward past Lily to see what she was holding.

“The boys sent me a letter,” she whispered, holding up the parchment. She laughed weakly, raising a hand to run it through her hair. She sank back down to the barstool and looked back to the parchment. “A real letter.”

“Oh, Ginny,” Draco breathed, gathering her into his arms and holding her tightly. She let the letter fall to the ground and buried her face in his chest, shaking with silent, unreleased sobs. When she finally pushed away, Ginny bent down to pick up the letter and swiped at her tears.

“What did they say?” Lily asked cautiously, fidgeting with the charm around her neck.

Ginny let her eyes scan over the words once more before looking up. “James said to make sure their bedroom is bigger than yours.”

“Not bloody likely!” she screeched, reaching for the letter. “Are they even getting a room?”

Draco let his thoughts wash over their discussion as he lowered himself onto his own barstool. He had forgotten about her sons. If Scorpius got a bedroom in their new house, it was only right that her boys did too.

But especially after Lily’s mention of her brothers on their walk home, it made Draco uncertain of where he belonged. He was her father, but not her family. He hadn’t seen her take her first steps; he hadn’t watched her grow up.

There were memories to be made, he understood that. But the thought that his two children hadn’t even met each other made his heart ache fiercely. He turned to watch his wife and daughter argue, Ginny laughing at Lily’s antics and tugging on her hair. He wanted that. He didn’t understand how, but he wanted it from the beginning. As hard as he tried not to, he could picture it. He and Ginny holding a redheaded baby with giant gray eyes…

He shook his head to clear it of such thoughts. It was time to go.

***

“Take your things upstairs, angel,” Ginny instructed, rummaging through the box nearest to the door.

Lily nodded happily and began gathering what few possessions her mother had unpacked in the middle of the foyer. Draco continued to stare out the window blankly as the slap of her shoes on the marble floor faded slowly.

He could feel Ginny’s eyes on the back of his head as he continued to stare at nothing, but he pretended not to notice. The rolling hills beyond their yard looked dreary, for underneath the melted snow lay nothing but grass dead from the year before. After the magic of snow, winter just looked ugly.

Here and there, the first sings of spring were budding alongside the remains of winter. But nothing could mask the barren expanse of brown. Draco sighed heavily.

He heard Ginny’s hand settle in the box. “Why don’t you go for a walk, Draco?”

He turned to stare at her, his pulse thudding in his chest. She smiled softly at him. “Don’t you need help…” he gestured vaguely.

She just chuckled. “And you were being so helpful. No, I’m fine. Go for a walk.”

He didn’t have the strength to argue, so he opened the front door and stepped outside. A blast of chilled wind whipped by his face, but Draco didn’t mind. He knew the cold would be gone soon enough, and then he would miss it.

Their new house was as far from Wiltshire as he could manage, but something about the marble floors and curving staircase and endless hills reminded him of his childhood home. At least there weren’t any peacocks.

He walked around toward the back of the property, past the limits of their yard and down a path to a lake he knew rested nearby. He closed his eyes as he walked and tried to remember the last summer that his parents tried to pretend that nothing was wrong, before he started his fifth year. It was before everyone knew Voldemort had returned, before his father was sent to prison, before Draco had to take the Dark Mark. Everything had seemed normal, for the most part.

But all that stood out from his last summer of Quidditch games and sleeping in were the brief spells of darkness in the hot months: his father’s rages through the Mansion, or how he howled when the Mark burned black on his arm. And he couldn’t forget that one night when Lucius came home late and so drunk that he had slapped Narcissa right across the face. Draco shuddered.

England had nothing for him. Nothing but memories blackened by a father he did not ask for and a fate he could not control.

Draco sunk down to the grass at the lake’s shore and lowered his face to his hands. He loathed the soil he stood on more than the school his son was currently attending, but how could he explain his childhood to Ginny? She had seen him for what he was in his adolescence. He had been a bully and a coward, and that was unjustifiable. Although he had changed, even before he had truly met her, the fact remained that England was where he had been that person and where he had experienced the utmost level of cruelty and cold. He didn’t want to be that person anymore. He didn’t want to become that person again.

But he loved Ginny, and that was why he was here.

Draco struggled to his feet and made his way to the back door, slipping in quietly and tiptoeing up the stairs to his new office. A new leather chair awaited him by the fire, surrounded by bookshelves of the companions that never left him – the friends that never strayed. He removed the flask of Firewhisky from his desk and poured himself a glass.

He had only been settled in the chair with his drink and book for twenty minutes when Ginny shut the door behind her. She took one look at his nearly drained glass and smiled, sauntering over to the chair and perching on one of its arms.

She took the glass from his hands and downed what was left of the alcohol. She pressed her lips to his forehead and peered at him with concern.

“What’s the matter, Draco?” she said. She smoothed his hair back and bent forward to whisper, “Tell me what’s wrong, love.”

He knew she wanted more than anything for him to talk to her. She wanted to know what ailed him about the country that truly was his home. But there was nothing he could explain to her. Nothing she didn’t already know. And there was nothing that he wanted to relive for her.

He looked up at her with cloudy eyes and pressed his lips to hers in a searing kiss. She slid into his lap and kissed him just as fervently, trailing hot fingers down his arm.

She pulled back, whispering against his lips. “Don’t you want to t-?”

But he silenced her with another kiss, unable to deal with it, and drew her closer to him in the chair.

The fire roared hotter beside them, and Draco’s mind flashed.

“He’ll go see the Dark Lord when I say he does! Don’t you dare question me.” Glass shattered on the floor.

“He’s my son too, Lucius!” Her voice was clear and high, echoing off the high, arching ceilings.

The sound of his skin slapping across hers rang loud in Draco’s ears, followed closely by her piercing scream.

Draco broke away, gasping, his head throbbing in time with his pulse. “No, I can’t, I’m sorry.” He pushed Ginny off his lap and stood up, rushing out of the study and into their new bathroom, just in time to empty his stomach into the toilet.

Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who continues to leave reviews. I read and respond to them all, and I’m supremely glad to. Thanks to more of those who leave reviews every chapter, including Eleoopy, seegrim, and rebel_angel. Again, special thanks to Embellished for speedy and sharp betaing.

Chapter 9: Out of the Air

Ginny smoothed her hands over the silk of her skirt, tugging at invisible wrinkles. She spun around on the point of her heel, a hand laid upon one of the foyer’s towering columns for balance.

She let her shoe settle back onto the floor from the heel, enjoying the echoing slap it made on the marble. One last time, she ran her fingers through her loose waves of red hair and breathed in deeply.

“Calm down, Mother,” Lily said huffily as she descended the staircase.

Ginny gave her daughter and apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Lil. I’m just a little…”

“Nervous?” Lily prompted with a knowing smirk.

“Preoccupied,” Ginny corrected sharply. But damn her daughter. What nine-year-old was that perceptive?

“Well, I’d say your hair and dress are just fine, Mummy,” Lily said sweetly. “So you can stop fussing with them.”

Ginny gave her daughter a stern look but lowered her hands to hers sides.

The last six weeks had been a swirl of tangled, uncertain events. One day, she believed they were as happy as possible, filling their new house with the kind of laughter and memories that she had ached for while living with Harry.

But the day after would be strained and dark, beginning and ending with Draco nursing a glass of scotch in his armchair, his eyes flashing dark with worries he wouldn’t share with her.

It was on those days that she doubted everything. She wondered if returning to England was a mistake, or even if leaving her family had been an error. She often curled up in the window seat in the foyer, as she had in the Potter house, and stared out at the rolling hills, wondering if by leaving she had changed anything at all. She would twirl her emerald wedding ring around on her finger and let tears trickle down her face, because there was no danger he would see them. Draco never left his room on those days.

On the next day, he would wake up and kiss her forehead and tell her he loved her. He would take her flying and then spend the entire afternoon teaching Lily the finer points of chess. And sometimes Ginny cried on those days too, for she had never been more confused in her entire life. The world he had brought her into was one of blended shades of gray.

She could only hope that one day, maybe he would be comfortable with sharing some of his past with her. Until then, all she could do was wait through the bad days. She had a feeling whatever demons tortured Draco were ones he wanted to work through on his own, and she wouldn’t accomplish anything by pushing him to talk.

After all, he hadn’t had one of his dark days in two weeks now, and this morning he had been so excited that he hadn’t been able to stop smiling.

But of course the source of his joy was the cause of Ginny’s anxiety. In less than twenty minutes, Draco was due to arrive home with a stranger to this new world of theirs. He would be bringing his son home for the Easter holidays.

Lily sat down on the bottom step and tapped her foot impatiently. Ginny turned around to look at her daughter once more, and furrowed her brow. The girl had pulled her long red hair into a sloppy ponytail, and she was wearing the sweater her grandmother had knitted for her last Christmas. It was almost as if she were trying to look as Potter as possible.

“Lily, darling, didn’t you see the clothes I laid out for you on the bed?” Ginny asked tentatively.

Lily rolled her eyes. “The lovely gray dress? The one that matches my eyes?”

Ginny nodded patiently, waiting for the storm that was currently brewing in her daughter’s eyes.

“I don’t want to wear that dress. I like my sweater.”

“Lily, meeting Scorpius is very important to me, and I would be really appreciative if you would go back upstairs and put on that dress for me.”

Lily simply jutted out her chin and glared at her mother. Ginny sighed inwardly and looked down at her watch. They only had fifteen minutes left.

“All right, young lady, if that’s how you want to play it, I will force you to put on that dress. You can march your butt back up those stairs or I can make you. Either way, I will win.”

Lily raised her eyebrows, but after a moment she sighed heavily and proceeded to stomp up the stairs. Ginny, sensing a rebellion, followed.

Lily was pulling the dress over her head when Ginny entered the room, and once she had poked her head through the collar, she scowled at her mother.

“You look very much like Uncle Ron when you do that,” Ginny told her sweetly. She glanced about the room, which had been painted a pale green of Lily’s choosing. Posters of Quidditch players flashed from one wall, while bookcases stretched along another. Ginny was glad to see that her daughter’s personality had been so thoroughly infused into the room.

Getting back to the task at hand, Ginny pulled out her wand and flicked it at her daughter’s head. At once, her red curls were tugged free of the hair tie and fell down her back nicely. Lily clenched her teeth.

Ginny ran a hand over Lily’s hair and bent down to look her in the eye. “I want you to be very good, do you understand? We are going to be a family, all of us,” she added sharply.

Lily folded her arms. “Then why aren’t James and Albus visiting, too?”

Ginny felt as if her daughter had smacked her across the face. Lily smirked in triumph and wrenched her arm out of her mother’s grasp before turning to run out of the room. It took Ginny a moment to find her breath before she stood to chase after her daughter.

She found her looking out the giant picture window in the parlor. Her eyes were red, but Ginny saw no trace of tears on her cheeks. She laid a hand on each of Lily’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry your brothers couldn’t visit, Lil. Your Dad and I decided that Scorpius would need some time to adjust to you and I before he found other strangers in the house. You had that time too, remember?” Ginny said pleadingly. “James and Albus can come to stay over the summer, I promise. And when I go to the Burrow at the end of the week to see them, you can certainly come with me.”

Lily sniffed slightly and looked up at her mother with a hesitant smile. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and nodded. “Okay.”

Ginny extended her hand and Lily took hold of it laughingly. The two of them went back to the parlor to stare out the window in anticipation of Scorpius’s arrival.

As Lily peered out the window, tapping her foot impatiently, Ginny had to marvel at how lucky she was that Lily had adjusted so quickly. Her miniature tantrum about Scorpius was about as angry as she had been since they moved, and Ginny realized that things could have been a lot worse. She could have hated Draco and missed Harry terribly. Overall, things had gone smoothly with her daughter.

Looking back on it later, she thought she should have known that it was too good to be true. Her miraculous attitude towards Draco was just that – a miracle. She shouldn’t have hoped it would happen a second time.

Ginny did a double take when Draco opened the front door and ushered in a young, pale-faced boy. His long, black Muggle coat and gray scarf looked almost regal on him, but when he fixed a cool gaze on her, she almost shuddered.

He was the spitting image of his father twenty five years ago. Even the slight tilt to his aristocratic chin was the same.

Ginny smiled widely. Draco gestured at her as he took his son’s coat and said, “Scorpius, this is Ginny.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Ginny said as if she were addressing an adult. Something about the boy’s reserved smile delivered an understanding that down talking would not be well received.

He shook her outstretched hand firmly and granted her a courtesy smile.

“And this is Lily,” Draco said, nearly tripping over the rug as he moved forward to touch Lily’s shoulder. “She’s your sister.”

This time Ginny actually did shudder as Scorpius fixed a cold glare upon her daughter. Ginny was almost relieved to see Lily with her arms crossed and returning his glare with a ferocious scowl of her own, for it was better that she mutually dislike him than be disappointed with his greeting.

Draco faltered slightly, looking between his children. “Erm, well, let’s go see your room, Scorpius.”

As Draco guided his son up the stairs, Lily shot her mother a withering glare before turning on her heel to stomp through the house. Ginny winced as she heard the back door slam.

She sighed and escaped to the kitchen, resigned to cook dinner now and resolve the family differences later.

Half an hour into preparing the shepherd’s pie, Ginny heard someone clear their throat behind her.

She peered over her shoulder to see Scorpius sitting on one of the counter stools. Although he had changed his clothes, he still looked smart in a dark green sweater and creased trousers. And while his hair hung flat and a little shaggy instead of being slicked back as Draco’s had been in their Hogwarts days, it was every bit as blond as his father’s.

“What’s up, Scorpius?” she asked while chopping up carrots.

She looked over her shoulder again in time to see him give her an odd look before the familiar smirk settled over his features.

“Do you…do you want any help?” he asked nervously.

Ginny hid a smile, wondering for a moment if Draco had forced this on the boy. But he looked almost earnest, sitting there on the stool, and she decided to take him up on his offer.

“Sure. There’s dough over there in that bowl. I’ll show you how to fold it into rolls.”

He looked slightly repulsed when she instructed him to dust his hands with powder first but did so anyway. She showed him how to work the dough and where to put the uncooked rolls before returning to the vegetables.

She snuck a look at him every few minutes, silently chuckling at the sight of him working the dough with a furrowed brow, his sweater sleeves rolled up and smears of flour adorning his face.

After ten minutes of comfortable silence, he cried out in triumph. “Done!”

Ginny wiped her hands on the dishtowel and examined his work while he watched proudly. The dough was wrapped a little less neatly than if she would have done it herself, but she was pleasantly surprised at how well Scorpius had followed instructions.

“Well done,” she said, patting his shoulder affectionately. She withdrew a little too quickly, afraid that she had crossed an unspoken line, but the boy smiled appreciatively.

“Can I do anything else?” he asked politely.

Ginny could see he wasn’t too interested in cooking – it was more likely that he wanted to please her and his father. She smiled and replied, “I don’t have much else for you to do. But how about you sit on the stool and talk to me while I finish up?”

He nodded and granted her another half smile before settling on the stool. He tapped his fingers in what she recognized as a nervous gesture.

“How do you like school?” she started conversationally.

The tapping fingers stopped. “It’s all right,” he said cautiously. “I’m not the best in my class. Only second.”

“Oh yeah? From what I’ve heard, you’re a sharp boy.”

“Dad would like to think that,” he said quietly.

Ginny laughed lightly, and the boy looked at her curiously. “Actually, I heard it from Shane.”

His whole face lit up immediately. “Shane?”

Ginny smiled. “Yes, sir. The bartender thought very highly of you. Who’s the best in your year, if not you?”

She turned when he didn’t answer to find him looking at her critically. When she smiled encouragingly, he sighed and answered, “Rose Weasley.”

Ginny felt her stomach drop sickeningly. She should have recognized that. She smiled nervously, fumbling to fix her mistake.

“Well, Rose is a smart girl. But I hear her worst subject is potions, much to her mother’s dismay. I daresay you top her in that?”

An appreciative smile played across his lips. Slowly, he nodded. “Rose is rubbish at potions.”

“And you play Quidditch for the house team?” Ginny asked, encouraged by her success.

Scorpius nodded again. “Yeah, I do.”

“Lily loves to fly. You both should go out this week.”

He wrinkled his nose for a second, but smiled at Ginny. “I suppose.”

Ginny put the dish and rolls in the oven and slid onto a stool beside Scorpius. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, a gesture that sharply reminded her of her daughter, but they soon settled into comfortable conversation as the dinner cooked.

***

Ginny was feeling panicky as the week went on and the two children refused to interact. On the third day, she was wandering down the hall to the library in the corner of the house. It was smallish in comparison to other libraries in English estates, according to Draco, but Ginny was so thrilled to even have a library at all that she dismissed his comment.

She heard voices as she passed Scorpius’s room, and for a moment her heart fluttered in her chest, hoping he and Lily were finally in the same room. But it sank just as quickly as she heard her husband’s voice.

Curiosity overcoming guilt, Ginny leaned closer to the door, her breath held and legs poised to scurry down the hall if the conversation were to end abruptly.

“…hate spending time with her. Can’t I just stay here over the summer?” Scorpius’s voice muttered.

“You know you have to spend time with your mother. And I would be more likely to consider letting you stay here if you were more inclined to get to know your sister,” Draco said sharply. Ginny winced for the boy, knowing how harsh that tone could be.

Scorpius grumbled something inaudibly.

“What was that?”

“You didn’t even know about her until a few months ago! I’ve been your son for twelve years! Why is she so much more important?” His voice cracked on the last word, and tears sprang to Ginny’s eyes.

“Scorpius…she’s not. You’re my son, and I…I love you. I just want you to get along with Lily. I want us to be a family.” There was a long pause, and when Draco began his voice was a little heavier. “I know I haven’t been the best Dad. But I’m here now, and it’s important to me that you and Ginny and Lily all get along…because I love you all.”

“Well, I like Ginny,” Scorpius replied.

Ginny smiled through her tears, and the constricting hold on her chest lifted a little. Draco laughed.

“I’m glad. I like her too.”

“I like her better than Mother,” Scorpius insisted.

“Well, keep that to yourself,” Draco said. “I don’t think your mother would appreciate it.”

“Yeah…”

They were quiet for a little while, and Ginny was beginning to move away from the door when Draco said, “Scorpius? Are you glad we moved here?”

“I – I like that you’re here. But I wish you would have kept The Dragon.”

Ginny felt her stomach drop, and guilt seeped into her chest. In her desire to give Lily what she wanted, she had decided to disregard the boy’s feelings and wishes.

“I know. I do too. I’ll miss it. Maybe we’ll go visit it in the summer, just the two of us.”

“Really?” Scorpius asked, trying and failing to mask his hopefulness.

“Really. But will you promise me to make an effort with your sister?”

“Half sister,” Scorpius corrected contemptuously.

Draco cleared his throat.

“All right, all right. I’ll try.”

***

Ginny was eating breakfast the following morning, scanning the morning paper, when Lily came stomping into the kitchen, fully decked out in her green Quidditch gear. She had braided her own fiery hair and looked angry enough to kill.

“Show him…bloody tosser. Girl can’t fly? Hmph,” she muttered angrily, ripping a banana from the bunch and peeling it violently.

“Going flying, Lily flower?” Ginny asked cheerfully, concealing a smirk behind her hand.

“Yes,” Lily hissed, taking an angry bite of her banana. She ripped open the back door and marched across the yard to the broom shed. Ginny laughed.

Scorpius joined her ten minutes later, wearing similar gear in a bluish gray. Ginny positioned herself so that she could watch from her chair.

In the moments that she glanced up from the paper, she saw that the children were playing with a Quaffle, trying to score goals on one another. From what she saw, both of them only scored one goal apiece.

Soon after that, they grew frustrated with fruitlessly trying to outdo one another and moved on to throwing golf balls as far as they could for the other to chase. Ginny didn’t see a single ball dropped.

Both were pink in the face at this point, scowling angrily at each other from their broomsticks. After what looked like a heated discussion, both soared into the air and lined up along the giant willow tree. Ginny watched with fascination, her newspaper forgotten on the table, as they counted off together and took off through the air. They both zoomed as fast as their brooms would take them, and Ginny’s heart skidded when she saw that Lily’s more juvenile broom couldn’t match Scorpius’s Nimbus.

But when the girl saw that she was lagging, she clenched her teeth in concentration and burst forward until she was dead even with her brother. They both whizzed across the makeshift finish line so close together that Ginny couldn’t tell who won.

She looked on nervously, now on her feet by the window, as both kids shot their fists in the air, grinning widely, until they realized the other had done the same. Both erupted into furious shouts, swooping down to the ground and advancing on each other angrily.

She settled back into her chair hastily as they stormed back to the house, their shouts growing louder with each step. Ginny cringed as the door flew open and slammed into the wall, but the sound was nearly drowned out by the angry shouting of the younger Malfoys.

“I certainly crossed the line first,” Scorpius hollered, his normally pale face flushed dramatically. “Your broom could never compete with mine!”

“Then that’s the mark that I’m the better flier,” Lily countered furiously. “If my shoddy broom could keep up with your smarmy-”

“You would like to think that, wouldn’t you?”

“I know it!”

“You don’t know anything!”

“Enough!” Ginny shrieked, standing up. Both children quailed under her fierce glare. “You are both acting like toddlers. If you cannot come to an agreement like the young adults I know you to be, you will not come to one at all. Go upstairs.”

They nodded obediently, scurrying to the stairwell, but Ginny heard their furious whispers echoing once they thought she was out of earshot. But silence engulfed the house once more, and Ginny was afraid that she’d startled them out of what little bonding they may have accomplished, no matter how angry it had been.

The next afternoon she was mourning that thought when a loud crash followed by a cry sounded from the upstairs corridor. Ginny looked up, alarmed. The cry had sounded like the bellow of a wounded animal. She rushed up the stairs to find Scorpius standing in the hallway, covered from head to toe in thick, pink slime.

“Scor – Scorpius?” Ginny stuttered. “What happened?”

Scorpius shook himself like a dog, splattering the walls with the stuff. He looked up at her and gave another enraged cry before turning to stomp back into his room.

Ginny stared at where he had stood, bewildered. Draco burst out of the office, looking around wildly.

“What the hell happened?” he cried, looking at the splotches of pink.

“Lillian Kaida Potter Malfoy!” Ginny screeched. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Draco cringe at “Potter.”

Scorpius burst back out of his room, still covered in pink.

“No!” he gasped, breathless. “She didn’t do anything. This was my fault. Don’t…don’t tell her. I think she’s outside.”

He looked at them both desperately, and then ran back into his room.

Draco looked up at Ginny, his mouth open slightly. “What was that?”

“I would say…that they’ve started a prank war,” Ginny said slowly, a smile playing at her lips.

And so it was. Later that afternoon, Ginny heard Lily scream and found her stuck on the toilet in the upstairs bathroom, a victim of her own Biting Toilet Seat. The next morning, Ginny turned in time to see Scorpius catch a butterfly out of the air and shove it into his pocket, and she balked when he belched up another.

The pranks, which Ginny understood were supposed to stay between the children, continued through the week, getting more and more vicious. Draco had to take Scorpius to St. Mungo’s because thee fingers on his right hand were missing, and no one could figure out how to put them back. Ginny couldn’t fathom how Lily had managed to do it, but assumed that something had made her daughter so angry that she had produced a raw, uncontrolled magic to remove her brother’s fingers. At any rate, after they returned from the hospital, Ginny told Draco she thought they should put a stop to the pranks.

“Are you kidding?” Draco laughed. “They’re having fun together. We couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

Ginny wasn’t sure. On the day before Scorpius was due to return to school, Lily stormed down to the kitchen for lunch with green hair, grumbling about how much she hated “that git.”

The next morning, Draco and Scorpius loaded the bags into their car and came back into the foyer to say goodbye. Lily had refused to be present.

Ginny bent down to hug the boy, smiling gently as they pulled back. “It’s been a pleasure having you. I hope we see a great deal of you over the summer.”

He smiled widely, and Ginny felt as though her heart might burst.

Draco gave the staircase one last sad look, and turned down to his son. “Well, I guess that’s it then.”

They opened the front door and were halfway out of it when they were startled by the sound of thundering footsteps. “Wait!” a voice called from upstairs.

Lily came barreling down the stairs, carrying a bag bursting with what looked like Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products. She stopped awkwardly in front of Scorpius for a moment before throwing her arms around him.

Both kids pulled back quickly, but were smiling shyly. Lily pressed the bag into Scorpius’s hands.

“For pranking Al and James, yeah?”

“All right, then,” Scorpius replied.

Without another word, Lily spun on her heel and dashed up the stairs again.

Author's Notes: I want to give a giant thanks to my beta, Embellished, who edited this at lightning speed. She continues to amaze me. I also want to thank those of you who hadn’t reviewed up until last chapter, but decided to leave me with your thoughts at my plea. I really appreciated every review.

Chapter 10: On Parade

It had been several weeks since Draco had experienced the need to lock his thoughts and memories away in the comfort of his study. At first he had thought it would be impossible to give up his reclusive tendencies, for his father’s shouts echoed in his head alongside the burning glare of red, serpentine eyes.

But Draco had made a conscious effort to avoid the solitude of his study because he saw the flashes of deepest hurt on Ginny’s face when she turned to leave after discovering him in there. Her distressed expressions only further reminded him of his mother, and he couldn’t bear to be like his father. Once, it had been okay for him to covet the solitude, but he had a family now. He endured the screams and the glowering eyes so that he could see them smile.

Over the winding weeks, the cries that haunted him subsided, and it grew less painful to be in the country he abhorred with the people he loved. With Scorpius’s arrival, the house that reminded him of the Manor at every turn was filled with laughter and resounding footsteps, and it was easy to rise from sleep each day and live life normally. And Draco had dared to hope that he might never experience the temptation to return to his seclusion, and that they could be happy forever.

But his son had returned to school several days ago, and shortly after that Ginny had ventured to the Burrow with Lily by her side in an attempt to make peace with her family.

In the time that they’d been gone, a heavy gloom had settled over the house, seeping beneath doors and filling the house with a deathly quiet. Rising in the place of the laughter of his children, the shouts entered Draco’s mind once more.

He considered this as he stared into the raging fire of his study, clinking the ice in his empty glass. It was tempting to refill it, but Draco knew he would regret another glass, especially if Ginny and Lily were to return home.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He didn’t know when they were bloody coming back. Ginny had wrapped her arms around his neck and said it would only be a few days. James and Albus were staying at the Burrow on an extended holiday, she had said. He hadn’t bothered to question her on it, because although he had never heard of children being granted extended holidays from Hogwarts, he had no doubt that if a Potter or a Weasley put in a request to have their children for a little longer due to “familial problems,” that the school would have no problem obliging them.

They had only been gone for two days, but the silence and voices had been enough to drive him mad. Or at least to drink.

Maybe I am going mad, he thought absently. What sane man hears the voices of his dead parents?

He turned to set his glass on the desk and caught sight of a picture resting on the smooth mahogany. His breath stuck in his chest as he picked it up and held it close to his face. He stared into his own eyes, bright and crinkled in laughter. Behind him loomed the giant clock tower in the center of Prague, but it was Lily’s waving green mitten in front of Draco that caught his attention. How happy and carefree they looked together.

When was the last time he had done something with her? Guilt clawed at his chest, and Draco cringed. It had been several weeks.

A loud slamming noise broke Draco from his thoughts, and his fingers fumbled for the picture as it fell to the ground.

He stood up, rushing to open the door, and strode toward the staircase. He heard them moving about downstairs, and waited for Lily’s usual call of “We’re home!” But it didn’t come. All he heard were whispers and careful footsteps.

He finally reached the top of the stairs and looked down as Ginny and Lily set their suitcases down on the floor of the foyer. Lily looked up and gave him a small smile.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said softly.

“Hullo, dragon,” Draco returned uncertainly. “How was your trip?” Ginny looked up sharply and shook her head. Draco sucked in cold air at the sight of her chocolate eyes, dulled and dark.

Lily shrugged and began to climb up the stairs, and it didn’t go unnoticed that she didn’t quite meet his gaze as she passed by him. Draco threw Ginny a look, cocking his head bewilderedly as a door slammed farther down the corridor.

“What happened?” he asked, descending the stairs to embrace her.

Ginny took a step back and busied herself with her suitcase, letting a curtain of fiery hair hide her eyes.

“She wants to be alone,” she replied somewhat coldly, straightening up with her suitcases in hand. “You should understand that signal.”

His chest twisted painfully. “Ginny…”

But she too walked past him and up the stairs, each footstep loud and determined.

For a moment, he stood rooted to the floor, his heart hanging somewhere between chasing his sorrows with another glass of scotch and chasing Ginny up the stairs. A trembling sigh escaped his lips, and his hesitation was left behind in the foyer as he took the stairs three at a time.

Draco was not the least bit surprised to find her sitting on their bed, cradling the family album that he had come to resent, because it only made her sad. The grip on his heart twisted more firmly as he saw her swipe angrily at the tears trickling down her face.

She breathed in deeply and finally looked up at him. “It was a disaster,” she whispered.

He crawled up beside her into the bed and removed the album from her grasp, closing it with a snap and setting it beside them.

“I thought…I thought that things would be better with a little time,” she said in the same quiet tone, her voice strained from holding back tears. “After their letter, and they seemed all right, I thought they might forgive me, but – but they can’t. They hate me. All of them hate me.”

And now her words were coming out in sobs, and Draco pulled her to his chest and let her cry.

“James wouldn’t even speak to me, and he and Albus punished Lily. She was so excited to tell them about you and our new house, and they were cruel to her. Their own sister. And it’s not even her fault!” Ginny whimpered.

A monstrous, angry force welled up in Draco’s chest. Damn Potter and his brats, for doing anything to hurt his little girl! They didn’t even bloody love her, couldn’t forgive her because of his blood that ran in her veins – a trait she had no power to control.

“And Mum…she said – said it would be best if I tried to rectify my mistakes,” she blubbered on, “and ask Harry for forgiveness! My own mother! More loyal to Ron’s best mate than her own daughter.”

It took every ounce of control Draco possessed to keep from shouting and railing against every goddamn Weasley and their self-righteous notions. He hated every last one of them – the almighty bastards! But he knew that Ginny didn’t need that. What she needed was for him to hold her and whisper that it would be all right.

“I love you,” he breathed, kissing her temple.

She buried her face further in the crook of his arm, clutching at the sleeve of his sweater. “Draco?” she murmured.

“Yes?” he returned softly.

“Can we go out – do things – as a family?”

He looked down at her, his eyebrows knitted together.

“I mean – I know I shouldn’t let it get to me. I shouldn’t listen to one thing they said to me. But…George said maybe if we didn’t stay…holed up here, and went out, maybe people would get more used to the idea of us…” she trailed off, sounding so hopeful it broke his heart.

Truth be told, the very idea of spending a day at a Quidditch match or somewhere else public sent his skin crawling, but he had absolutely no will power to tell her no.

“Okay.”

***

It had been over twenty years since he had walked the streets of Diagon Alley. He had refused to do so even when Scorpius needed to buy his first wand, and Celia had taken him by herself.

But it was amazing how perfectly he still knew the place and how very little had changed. The same battered signs hung from every doorway, the same stones paved the roads, and the same round and unblinking owl eyes stared out from the emporium window.

But it was the differences that made Draco’s breathing come a little easier. The racing broom models and dress robe styles that caught his eye were quite different from those of his childhood. Perhaps the place had changed.

“When I go to Hogwarts, will you buy me a broom like Scorpius’s, Dad?” Lily asked excitedly, tugging at his sleeve and pointing into the window display.

Draco blinked for a second, stumbling out of his thoughts and thrown by the thought of his daughter leaving to attend Hogwarts in another year and a half. Her eyes were shining a bright, hopeful blue.

“Of course, dragon. You could be on the same team as Scorpius,” he added a little mischievously.

Lily stuck out her lip, and Draco thought he saw her mother grin slyly. “I don’t want to play with Scorpius!” she insisted. “I want to play against him!”

“But then you’d have to play with James,” Draco pointed out.

Lily’s face fell, and Ginny shook her head warningly. A horrible plunging feeling gripped Draco’s stomach as he realized it was too soon to be teasing her about her brothers.

“Do you want to go see Uncle George?” Ginny asked kindly, swooping in to his rescue as always.

Lily brightened considerably. “Yeah! Can I get something?”

Before Ginny could tell her no, Draco cut in. “Of course, dragon.”

She squealed in delight and ran ahead of them. Draco shoved his hands in his pockets and avoided Ginny’s stare. When it turned out to be impossible, he glanced at her guiltily.

“I’m sorry! She looked sad…”

Ginny clucked her tongue but smiled. “You’ll have to learn to be firm with her, you know.” She laughed and reached for his hand. He looked at her nervously, sure she could feel his quickly beating pulse in his palm. She ran her thumb along his knuckles.

“I’m glad we could do this,” she said softly. “You know, be a real family.”

Draco chuckled. “We really are.”

“I love you.”

That dangerously happy bubble rose in his chest again, and he was about to return the sentiments when a pair of dark eyes caught his.

He looked the woman over, from her pulled back brown hair to her pointed purple shoes, and determined that he had never seen her before. But from the intensity and familiarity of her glare, he might have thought her one of the girls he had ditched at The Dragon.

He stuttered for a moment, tearing his eyes away from the strange witch’s, and said, “Yeah, me too.”

Ginny gave him a funny smile and tugged him towards the door of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

He returned the smile half-heartedly, unable to shake the cold feeling running through his veins. He felt sure he had seen that stare before.

Draco looked up sharply as Ginny’s fingers slipped from his and she glided across the store to embrace her brother. He slid his hands back into his pockets, looking around awkwardly.

Witches and wizards of all ages crowded among the displays. He searched for a flash of reddish hair but found none. Lily must already be in the back room, Draco thought with half a smile.

As Ginny began to chat with her brother, Draco pushed through a crowd of adolescents toward the back. He looked back at Ginny, whose eyes were bright and whose gestures were growing larger with each sentence, both actions which he recognized as her signs of delight.

He looked ahead again to navigate through the mobs of people, stopping short just in time to keep from knocking into a boy in his late teens. The young man seemed almost startled for a moment, taking in Draco’s face before looking him up and down.

“Watch it,” the boy snarled, his hand clutching something tightly in his pocket. Draco watched in shock as the teenager spit at his feet and brushed past him roughly. His brain refused to function for a moment, producing blips of thoughts, until Lily was suddenly at his side.

“Look at this, Daddy! You can grow real fangs! Look, they drip blood and everything! Daddy?” she faltered, coming to a stop mid-bounce. She shook his arm, eyes suddenly a ferocious gray but full of what he recognized as concern. “What’s wrong?”

Ignoring his pounding heart, Draco forced a smile. “Nothing. Let’s get that then, shall we?”

They edged their way to the register, but now the stares where everywhere. Hard, gleaming eyes beneath knitted brows dug into him. Draco whipped his head around to see more of them, growing closer and larger, as if they were closing in on him. He nearly gasped as sharp pains poked at his lungs and throat. Ginny’s hand was suddenly on his arm.

“Are you all right?” she asked, eyes widened and face white.

He shook his head wordlessly, trying to find his breath.

“Here,” he gasped, pushing the product into her hands. “Buy this. I need air.”

He stumbled out onto the street, his fingers tugging at his hair and his head spinning. Suddenly, Diagon Alley seemed exactly the same as it had always been. The same jeering faces and angry stares emerged from behind the façade of happy stores and family outings. It was all the same.

He could even feel them now, as he shrunk back against the brick wall, taking his pride and sanity with their filthy words and judgments.

“Draco?” her voice called from very far away now. He could barely hear it.

“Careful, miss,” a voice said fearfully. “Do you know who that is?”

“Of course I know who it is,” Ginny snapped. “He’s my husband.”

Maybe he imagined the words. Maybe I’m dreaming. But they made the pain lessen anyway.

There were whispers all around and the increasing shuffling of feet. “Come on, Draco. Let’s go home.”

He blindly let her guide him, completely unsure of their path or destination. It caused panic to seize his chest, but he had little choice in the matter. Nevertheless, the trust came painfully.

And then he couldn’t remember anything at all. His world was simply black, his senses distorted and unreal until something was thrust between his lips.

The liquid burned in his throat, and he coughed and sputtered, but things came back slowly.

She was staring at him with hard eyes softened by tears, and he knew that stare was so very different from those that had pierced him in Diagon Alley.

“Draco,” she breathed, pressing cold hands to his face. “Oh, Draco.”

He blinked, looking about the bedroom in bewilderment. “Lily-?”

“Is with George,” Ginny whispered.

The weight of the afternoon crashed down upon him, flashes of angry eyes clouding his vision. She reached out to touch him again, but he recoiled.

“Draco…” she whispered again, her voice thick with tears. “Draco, I’m sorry.”

He inhaled sharply. “Do you even know what you’re sorry for?” Anger was building in his chest, persistent and irrational and massive.

Her tears were falling in earnest now, her hands shaking as she fussed with the bed sheet.

“I didn’t think – I didn’t know. I didn’t know it would be like that,” she pleaded. “I just wanted us to be a family – a real family!” She was sobbing now, almost as frenzied as he was. Where that would have softened him only hours ago, now it only fed his rage.

“Damn it, Ginny! We are a real family!” Draco retorted. “Just because we don’t go marching up Diagon Alley every weekend doesn’t make us any less of one! Why isn’t what we have good enough for you?”

She swiped at her tears, anger marring her features too now. “Well what do we have, anyway? You sit in your goddamn study, sulking, refusing to tell me what’s wrong! Tell me, what is it we have?”

“We have a daughter,” he said in a tone of deathly quiet. “The two of you are the only things that matter to me. Else I wouldn’t have moved back to this bloody country.”

“Why do you resent it so much?” she shouted, her fists clenched. “We all had to live through that war, Draco. We all suffered! Fred died, for heaven’s sake!”

“It’s not that war that keeps me awake at night, Ginny! It’s what happened after!”

Silence consumed the room as they breathed heavily, staring at each other.

“Your family didn’t go through what I did after that war. I’m bound to them forever. Forever, Ginny! Twenty years later, people still spit on me like the filth he was! And you want me to go into the center of wizarding England, parading Harry Potter’s ex-wife and daughter as my own?”

“It’s not my fault that your parents were Death Eaters, Draco,” Ginny replied quietly. She looked at him with remorse, truly sorry for her mistake, but also for his experiences, he knew.

But she didn’t – couldn’t – understand the demons that ate away at his life in this country. He couldn’t give her what she wanted.

“Nor is it mine.”

Author’s Note: I hope you all had wonderful holidays, and now that we’re back to the real world as well as writing, here’s what I worked on over the break. Many thanks to Embellished, who’s always rushing to get me edits. Those of you who continue to review are so appreciated; every one of them really makes me smile.

Chapter 11: This Heartbreak World

The shadows creeping up the walls of the living room loomed over Ginny as she sunk farther into the couch. She plucked at her nightgown nervously, turning over yet again in hopes of finding a more comfortable position.

A thick, heavy darkness ate away at the room, surrounding and choking her. She supposed it was fair punishment for abandoning her bedroom in favor of spending the night on the couch. While the tense stillness of the lounge was uncomfortable, the very idea of spending a night curled up along the edge of her and Draco’s bed, trying to avoid even accidental touches, made her physically sick.

He had stared her down with piercing eyes and she had quailed under such an intense glare. Visibly trembling, she fled to Lily’s bedroom, only to curl up among her daughter’s stuffed animals and cry.

She wouldn’t have been able to confront him when he finally retired to their bedroom, so she stole into the room and grabbed her night things and curled up in the lounge, hoping to capture a few hours of sleep before having to face that severe stare again.

Her plan, at that point, had failed, because three hours later, she was pressed into the back of the couch, wide awake and still trembling.

“It's been like ... like something out of someone else's life, these last few weeks with you…” Harry had said it so simply, with heartbreaking, bittersweet honesty at Dumbledore’s funeral, and she had believed him. Oh, she had believed him. Even if it had been stupidly noble, even if he had given up on them after those perfect, beautiful weeks, she had believed him.

“I – er – oh, bugger. This is coming out all wrong. I guess I was just wondering…if you’d marry me?” She remembered him shoving his fingers through his hair and fumbling with slow fingers for the tiny black box in his pocket. She remembered throwing her arms around him and laughing through tears, so ridiculously happy to just be his – to be Harry’s.

“Ginny, dear, listen to me. Sometimes we make mistakes. At the time they seem like the right thing to do, because we’re upset or bored or angry. But they are mistakes, nonetheless. It would be best if you talked to Harry, dear. He misses you. You know that is the right thing to do.” Molly had said it so slowly, with gentle understanding, and Ginny had looked at her with disgust, slapping her hand away and scrambling to leave, tugging Lily with her.

Ginny twisted to her other side on the couch, not bothering to wipe away the solitary tear slipping down her cheek. At the time, she had been so angry she could have reached out and smacked her mother across the face. But now…

Harry hadn’t given her the life she’d wanted. She had been bored and depressed and in a state of simple existence, but she had never felt openly miserable. She had never ached with her whole heart as she did now, not until she had stumbled across Draco in Prague. Not until he had shown her what it felt like to be loved so completely and to love completely in return.

Even after their flawless months in Paris, she had found it possible to bury her regrets and face life as Mrs. Potter. But in Prague, she had discovered it would be impossible to walk away from such a love more than once.

“You’re nothing but a slag! Some bitch Malfoy found in Paris as an easy piece of arse, and you tell me Lily’s his? I bet you begged him to screw you. Begged him like the cheap tart you are!” His eyes had shown such a ferocious shade of green, and he had paced and raged and spit like he was mad beyond belief. All while she cried and sobbed on the couch, screaming for him to stop, just to stop…

Her body shook with sobs now, aching with everything she had, because he was right. She had done horrible things – made horrible decisions – in her life. She had hurt two men beyond repair, trampling over them toward her own happiness without a care in the world. She had thought she did the right thing in Paris, by leaving Draco so Harry could be with his child, but in the end, it had just been another one of her mistakes.

Harry might not have lavished her with attention, but he had loved her. And Draco – Draco had overwhelmed her with something so much greater than love.

“I know what’s important. I know where you’re ticklish. I know your favorite books and foods and what makes you happy.

Draco had bothered to know her. He had bothered to hold her and tell her things just to see her smile. That, in itself, had been frightening. The thought of being known and loved for exactly who and what she was had terrified Ginny, because to accept it meant she was invested, and would be hurt beyond repair if things didn’t work out. Draco’s feelings had scared her beyond imagination, but they had freed her once she had accepted them.

She wanted so much to give him the same thing. Her entire being was quivering with a need to hold him and kiss away his demons. If only he’d let her.

Still shaking, Ginny rose from the couch, accepting that there would be no sleep tonight. She stood for a moment, feet bouncing with pent up energy, before rushing with decisiveness into the foyer. She grabbed her cloak from the stand and slipped out the front door and into the night.

***

“I’m really sorry about this,” Ginny said in a small voice, tucking her legs beneath her as she settled into the chair.

George waved away her apology, still fussing with something on the stove. When he appeared to be satisfied, he turned back to her and slid into the opposite chair. “Don’t worry about it, Gin.” He leaned forward and rested his chin on his folded hands, looking at her with those deep blue eyes, almost as if he could see through her.

“But, I mean, Angelina’s sleeping isn’t she? I haven’t woken her up?” Ginny stammered nervously.

George chuckled. “No, I’m afraid she’s gone for good when she falls asleep.” He smiled widely, and Ginny couldn’t help but marvel on how happy his wife had made him in the past two years. “But I’m enjoying it while I can. I daresay in a couple of months she won’t be falling asleep as easily.” His eyes twinkled as Ginny gasped and leaned across the table to hug him.

“George!” she exclaimed, eyes tearing a little. “She’s pregnant?”

He laughed shyly. “Yeah, she is. And you’re the first one I’ve told, so please keep it to yourself until I get the courage to tell Mum.”

Ginny sobered at this, falling back into her chair. George’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Gin. I forgot.”

“Yeah – I – don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault,” she sniffed.

He reached across the table and laid his hand over hers, rubbing it comfortingly. He let her sniffle for a few minutes before clearing his throat. “Why are you here, Ginny? I know you could have gotten Lily in the morning.”

She gave him a watery smile. “I’m sorry, George. I’m sorry I had to leave her with you. It’s just that – people were out there, and Draco…”

“Yeah, I know. I saw,” he replied softly, rising from his chair and moving back to the stove. “Go on.”

“Things have been…hard, I guess you would say. It’s difficult for Draco to be back in England.”

George nodded, taking something off the stove and pouring it into mugs.

“But it’s right for us to be here, because it’s Lily’s home, but I just can’t-” Tears were falling now, and she brushed them away impatiently. Her whole body shook, and to her brother she must look insane because she couldn’t get a full thought out. She didn’t even know what she was thinking.

“I can’t…I can’t do this, George,” she gasped. “I can’t.”

He set the mugs of steaming hot chocolate on the table and pulled her to her feet and into a hug. She cried heavily on his shoulder, beating her fists against his chest, as he stroked her hair and hugged her close.

“Gin,” he whispered, pulling back to look at her. “Ginny, listen to me. Here, drink this.” They sat down again, and he pushed the cup of warm liquid into her hands.

“Ginny, this is going to be hard. You’ve chosen the harder path. You could have stayed with Harry-” He held up a hand to stop her spluttering objection. “It would have been crap, and you would have been unhappy, but you could have done it. You chose Draco.”

He paused and looked at her with raised eyebrows as if daring her to object.

“You know, I miss my fierce, fiery baby sister. Last weekend, they all yelled at you and told you terrible things, and you just sat there and took it. You let them fill your head with all sorts of sodding nonsense and doubt. You made this choice, yes, but from what I can see, you’re not fighting for it, Gin. You’ve got to fight for what you want.”

She smiled through the sheen of tears coating her face and leapt up to hug him again. She laughed because he was right. She would have to fight for her family and her marriage and her daughter. She would fight for it all.

***

The sun was rising on the other side of the towering house, illuminating it from behind so that it looked almost holy as Ginny stared up at it. The golden morning rays streamed over the sloping rooftops and caused the windowpanes to sparkle beautifully.

Her grip on the little wooden gate tightened. She kicked at the dirt with the toe of her boot, swaying a little on the spot. Past the gate, she could see that the late spring flowers were blooming beautifully, dotting the wild garden with color.

Her knuckles were white as she held firmly to the gate, but she breathed in deeply and pushed it open, striding across the little yard.

The kitchen smelled of sausage and porridge as she walked through the door. She closed it behind her firmly and removed her cloak, hanging it on the back of a chair. Out of habit, she checked the magical clock, hugging herself tightly at the sight of Fred’s hand pointed toward “Lost.”

Sighing heavily, she sunk into one of the kitchen chairs. She tapped her fingers in time to the ticking of the clock, twirling a strand of red hair around her finger as she waited.

There was a thundering of footsteps and Ginny looked up to see her mother bouncing into the kitchen, her flyaway red hair looking slightly frizzed. She turned back to the staircase and hollered, “And Ronald Weasley, you can just find another place to spend the night the next time your wife kicks you out of the house! Humph.”

She spun around again and gave a little scream when she caught sight of Ginny sitting in her kitchen.

“Ginevra Potter! What are you thinking, just-?”

“It’s Ginevra Malfoy now, Mum,” Ginny said firmly, rising to her feet. In her high heeled boots, she towered a good seven inches over her mother, but when Molly puffed up angrily, she cringed inwardly.

“I’m well aware, missy. What are you doing here?” she said crossly, brushing past Ginny to the stove.

“I’m here to tell you that I am married to Draco now, Mum, and I am going to stay married to him. I was never happy with Harry, and if you would have opened your eyes for two seconds you would have seen that,” she ground the words out angrily, her eyes hard and flashing.

“Are you quite through?” Molly sniffed over the pan of sausage.

“No, I am not through! It hurts, Mum, it really hurts that you care more about Ron’s best mate than you do your own daughter. I was miserable with Harry, Mum. And all you cared about was getting me back together with him. I love Draco. I choose him. And if you can’t accept that, then you can’t accept me.”

She rubbed her eye fiercely, swallowing tears. There would be no crying for this.

“Did you ever stop to think, Ginevra, that maybe I wasn’t looking out for Harry’s interests? That maybe I was concerned about your children?” Molly slammed the frying pan down into the sink and whipped around angrily, her own eyes blazing hard.

“Lily is happy, Mother!” Ginny shouted furiously. “I have never seen her as happy as when she’s with Draco.”

“She’s did seem so happy last weekend,” Molly retorted, wiping her hands on her apron frantically.

“I don’t know what you said to the boys, but they were happy when I wrote to them in the winter.”

“They didn’t know any better!” Molly shouted. “You didn’t tell them the truth, and so I did. That their mother ran off with their father’s worst enemy who fathered their baby sister.”

Ginny breathed heavily, seething. “You had absolutely no right to tell them that. I was waiting for the right time to say something, so that they would understand. They tortured Lily, Mum, and you caused that! I can’t believe – I’m just appalled, you just-” She broke off, slamming her fist down on the table. “Why can’t you accept that what I’m doing is the best for everyone? I’m doing the best I can!”

“You are hurting more people than you are helping, Ginevra,” Molly replied stiffly.

“What about everyone you’re hurting? You’ve hurt the boys, Lily, Draco – you’ve hurt me, Mum! Your own daughter!”

“I did what I thought was best.”

“And so did I!” Ginny said furiously, biting back a scream. “So am I. If you can’t accept that, I’m sorry. I just want you to know where I stand.”

They both looked up as Ron stumbled into the kitchen with bleary eyes and wild hair. “Mum, what’s all the shouting-?” He stopped suddenly, looking wide-eyed at Ginny. “Oh,” he snarled. “It’s you.” He turned around and marched back up the stairs.

Ginny laughed bitterly. “And on that note,” she said, shrugging. She grabbed her cloak and strode toward the door. She paused with her hand on the knob and turned back to see Molly gazing intently at her. She gripped the knob more firmly, and Molly’s grim frown became even more prominent. “This is my decision, and if that is yours so be it. Goodbye, Mother.”

***

She burst into the bedroom and waved her wand at the lights. The bed was unmade but empty, and she stood staring at it, bewildered, for a solid two minutes.

“Draco?” Ginny called nervously. She leaned into the bathroom, teetering in her boots slightly, but it was also still.

She rushed back into the corridor, her strides punctuated by the click of her heels, looking briefly in Scorpius’s and Lily’s rooms. “Draco?”

She pushed open the study door, and there he was, curled up in his armchair with not a drink, but a picture. “Draco!” she exclaimed happily, curious relief flooding into her chest.

He looked up hazily, his eyes unfocused and dull. She rushed across the room but stopped before his chair, oddly hesitant under his groggy gaze. But she shoved past that and fell into his arms, kissing his face all over, deliriously happy to just be near him.

He grabbed her roughly by the arms and pulled her back. He tilted his head, confused. “Ginny, what-?”

“I did it,” she whispered happily, holding his face between her hands. “I told my mother it’s you and only you. We don’t have to go out or do anything. Because we’re here, you and me, and I love you. This is good enough for me. This is just perfect.”

He gathered her back into his arms and kissed her. She knew there were still troubles waiting for them. She couldn’t stay away from her family for too long, because neither could Lily. And his demons couldn’t be kept at bay any longer. But they would deal with them together. They would face them head on.

Author's Notes: I know I have not updated in a really long time, and I'm sorry for it. I've been suffering from horrible writer's block, but from this point on, things should be running much more smoothly, and the updates should be back to their regular schedule. :) Thanks to Embellished, who remained so patient to me during this time.

Chapter 12: The Space Between

The bed was empty. He woke up reaching for her, but he was really reaching for nothing. He stumbled out of bed and into the corridor, running the length of it shouting their names. Lily’s room was empty – the whole house was empty.

Part of him had known it would happen – she couldn’t stay with him forever. She would have to leave him eventually. And after the previous evening, after she had seen people jeering and pointing, she must have realized again that it was just too much for her.

He felt as if his very soul was draining from his body. With each passing second a little bit of him slipped away, and by the time he reached his study, he fell into his chair in a whirring daze with the picture of Lily and Ginny on the bridge in Prague crinkling between his fingers.

Draco felt nothing. He didn’t know if it was day or night, if he was awake or asleep, if it was days that were passing by or seconds. He couldn’t see or hear or feel. He wasn’t even sure if he could breathe.

But then suddenly her hands were on his face, and her voice filled his ears, and even though he couldn’t understand any of it, she was there – and she was his. He knew that much.

She breathed words he couldn’t really understand against his skin, and he gathered her back into his arms and kissed her feverishly.

She pressed against him just as frantically, searing into him so forcefully that it felt like she might crawl beneath his skin. She held on to him so tightly that he couldn’t hear the screaming anymore, and he couldn’t see their faces. It was so easy to become lost in her.

***

The wisp of knowledge that Ginny had confronted her family hung over their lives, bright and shining but also presenting a glaring demand. Ginny herself was illuminated, waltzing through her days with a newfound sort of grace. She laughed louder, smiled wider, and fought harder. Draco felt as if she were whole again.

But the fact that she had tackled her doubts about their marriage made him feel that much more insignificant for not tackling his. For her sake, he wouldn’t allow himself to mope. He tried to treat her and Lily as he had in Prague, but something always felt wrong, and Ginny’s eyes never lit up like they used to. He could tell she appreciated that he was trying, but he knew his efforts were falling short of what she really wanted. Sometimes he lay awake at night as she slept soundly beside him, and he couldn’t help but feel like there was some sort of empty space between them, as if she were really somewhere else. It was almost as if she had crossed to some better place, and he could never really join her.

In the early days of May, Draco passed by a bedroom Ginny was working on, getting it ready for when Albus and James would visit in the summer. She was perched atop a small foot ladder, humming to herself as she made sweeping strokes with red paint across the walls. Draco was apprehensive about the visit already, especially after the horrible encounter Ginny and Lily had with them over the Easter holidays, but he couldn’t bring himself to mention his concerns to her, not when she was so happy.

Draco continued down the hallway, listening intently to the fading humming, but stopped short as he passed by Lily’s room.

She was sprawled out across the floor, scribbling furiously with what looked like magic crayons, no doubt a contraption of her uncle’s. Draco leaned closer, catching sight of a few redheaded figures marching across the paper before his daughter looked up instinctively and smiled at him.

“Hullo, Daddy,” she chirped, pushing away the crayons and sitting up eagerly.

“Hi, dragon.” He paused, looking at her thoughtfully. Her blue eyes were shining hopefully in a way that made his stomach clench and his heart pound.

“Erm, dragon, what do you think about doing something today?” he asked tentatively.

“Like what?” She turned back to her drawing, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“Well, I don’t know, what do you think about…?” He racked his brain, trying to think of something he had always wanted his parents to do with him when he was younger. “A pet! What do you think about going to buy a pet?”

She threw him a strange look over her shoulder. “From where?”

Draco shuffled restlessly. “Well, Diagon Alley.”

Her crayon hovered over the paper. “Diagon Alley?”

Draco nodded, his voice caught in his throat.

“But you don’t like Diagon Alley,” Lily said pointedly.

It still amazed him how perfectly perceptive she was. Her slightly darkened eyes drilled into him, turning him inside out as he stared back helplessly. He gave her the widest smile he could muster.

“But I love you,” he declared grandly. “So why don’t you get ready? I’ll go tell your mum.”

She gave him a dazzling little half smile and jumped to her feet, running to the closet. He took one more second to watch her as she scurried about her room before turning back down the corridor.

Ginny was still humming softly, standing atop the ladder on her tiptoes. Her small, paint stained shorts made him stare shamelessly. He admired the stretch of her long, freckle dusted legs and took in the graceful curve of her neck and shoulders. He let out a little sigh.

She turned and smiled at him, laying her brush across the can of paint. “Hello, Malfoy.”

He smirked at her, eyebrows raised, but drew her into a hug and held her close. “Weasley,” he breathed.

She laughed and swatted playfully at his chest, pushing away and striding back to the wall with a little more swing in her hips. “It’s Malfoy now,” she corrected laughingly.

He cleared his throat as she clambered back onto her ladder. “Erm, Gin? Lily and I are – er – going out. We’ll be back in a couple hours,” he added hastily.

She stopped mid-brushstroke, turning to eye him critically. “Out? Out where?”

“We’re just going to buy her a pet, you know, to make her feel more settled,” he mumbled, trying to restate the psychological babble Ginny was always going on about.

“You don’t mean Diagon Alley out, do you?” she said sternly.

He shrugged.

Ginny sighed, laying her brush down again and wiping her hands on her shirt. “Draco,” she began softly, “I don’t want you going into Diagon Alley. I appreciate all your efforts lately, and I wouldn’t want you to do anything that might ruin that.”

“I’m not,” he said firmly, grabbing her upper arms and forced her gaze to meet his. “I’m not.”

She shook her head, falling into his chest. “But what if you go and someone-”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” he whispered, rubbing her back. “I promise.”

“Are you ready to go, Daddy?” They both turned to see Lily standing in the doorway, her red hair in little braids and her smile tentative.

“Sure thing, dragon,” Draco replied, squeezing Ginny’s hand before letting go.

Lily skipped ahead of him down Diagon Alley, laughing and twirling along like a little fairy. The late spring sunbeams fell on her, illuminating her hair and her eyes with the mischievous sparkle he had come to love so much. Draco inhaled deeply, catching the faint smell of summer hanging in the wind, and smiled.

Lily ran back to him, taking his hand affectionately. “Are we going to the Magical Menagerie?” she asked shyly, swinging their intertwined hands back and forth.

“Of course we are, dragon.”

She let go of his hand again to spin around with her arms outstretched, face turned toward the sky. Draco missed the feel of her tiny hand tucked within his own, but felt it might be worth it to see her dancing down the street.

He looked past her to see an old wizard sneering at him, his eyes narrowed and sharp. Draco swallowed, his hands feeling clammy and his heart beating erratically, but smiled at the man, and then looked back to his daughter.

Well done. Breathe.

The small bell rang overhead as Lily bounced into the shop. Before Draco could even close the door behind him, she had disappeared into the aisles of cages.

“Lily?” he called tentatively. “Lily?”

“Dad!” he heard her excited yell. “Dad, come here!”

He followed the sound of her coos into the back of the shop, where he found her pressing her face against the shimmering magical wall of a cage.

“Look, look!” she squealed, pressing her finger against the wall.

Draco bent forward to examine eight tiny kittens romping across the expanse of the large cage, jumping across one another and tugging at each other’s ears.

Draco’s eyes were drawn to the two most rambunctious kittens first, and his heart did a funny flip in his chest. They both were ginger colored, such a rich, gorgeous red he would have thought them Weasley cats.

“Look at that one!” Lily insisted, jamming her finger more persistently against the wall. He followed her gaze, sure she was going to pick out one of the red kittens, but saw she was pointing to a kitten in the back.

He was huddled in the corner, small and shivering and pitiful looking beside his companions. Draco stared at him, and the cat stared back.

“Isn’t he a pretty color?” Lily asked.

The little kitten slinked to the front of the cage, blinking at Lily. Draco nodded at her. He was a wonderful shade of silver.

“He’s beautiful, dragon,” Draco conceded. “Would you like him?”

Lily nodded earnestly, pressing her hand against the cage.

Draco strode to the front of the store, searching his pockets for his galleons, and stopped at the counter. “Er, my daughter would like to see one of the kittens in the back…?” he directed his request to the middle-aged witch behind the counter, who was fiddling with something beneath the register.

She popped up suddenly and stifled a little gasp with her hands, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes. “Sure,” she squeaked, nearly running toward the back of the store.

Draco stood rooted to the spot for a moment, breathing heavily. His head was spinning, his vision blurring. After what felt like hours, he clenched his fists, exhaled magnificently, and forced his feet to follow the woman.

“That one, right there,” Lily was saying. The woman waved her wand over the cage and handed Lily her kitten, throwing Draco a nervous look over her shoulder.

The kitten shook in Lily’s arms, but seemed content to be there. Lily held him closer, beaming up at her dad with glazed over eyes.

Draco gave Lily a quick smile before turning back to the woman. “How much…?”

“Seven galleons,” she peeped, wringing her hands anxiously.

Draco fumbled for the coins, pushing them at her blindly, before taking a hold of Lily’s shoulder and steering her and her kitten from the shop.

Draco stumbled out onto the street, breathing deeply. Lily was looking at him with concerned eyes, stroking her kitten. She reached for his hand, squeezing it. “Thanks, Daddy,” she whispered.

He took another steadying breath. “Anything for you, dragon.”

***

He was lying awake in the bed, staring out the window at the full moon hanging low in the sky, when he felt her crawl into bed beside him and wrap her arms around his shoulders from behind.

“Is the room done?” he whispered, letting his eyelids flutter shut as she pressed her lips into his shoulder blade.

“Almost,” she replied. “It’s all painted, though.”

“Good,” he breathed.

They were silent for some time, and when Draco was almost sure Ginny had fallen asleep, he asked, “What was she like as a baby?”

He felt her stir and nestle at little closer into him. “She was beautiful,” Ginny murmured. “She was always laughing and babbling. She adored her brothers.” Ginny laughed, and he could tell she was close to tears. “Whenever I turned the Wireless on, she would clap and bounce like she was dancing.”

Draco turned in bed and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. After a little while, her breathing slowed, and her body relaxed against him perfectly as he stroked her hair. He slid his hands to her stomach, imagining what it must have been like for her to carry Lily, for her sons to press their ears against her stomach and feel his little daughter kick for the first time. He held her tightly then, and fell asleep.

Author’s Note: Thanks a lot for those really kind, long reviews last time. They really helped me get back to writing this (I promised updates would be faster), and I can assure you that every review you write really makes my day and makes me want to sit back down in front of the computer for another five minutes to work on the upcoming chapter. :) That said, thanks to Embellished for her wonderful beta skills and support for me. I really couldn’t do this without her.

Chapter 13: In the Distance

“It looks awful.”

Ginny ran her hands over the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles in the crimson duvet, and ignored the comment. She straightened up, turning on the spot to admire the fully furnished bedroom.

“Honestly, Ginny, it looks like Godric threw up in here,” Scorpius sniggered.

She threw him a dirty look over her shoulder. “I forgot how lovely it was to have you around. You are so like your father.”

The boy smiled cheekily. “But really, was all of this necessary?” he asked, petting the lion statue on one of the nightstands.

“Out, you! I don’t need any more of your comments,” Ginny exclaimed laughingly, pushing Scorpius through the door.

“When are the Potters arriving, anyway?” He ducked under her arm and ran back into the room, launching himself onto the nearest bed.

Ginny blew out a frustrated sigh, tucking her hair behind her ears before letting her hands fall to her hips. “Thursday, you little Slytherin monster. Now get out!”

He shot her a pout reminiscent of his father’s and strutted out of the room. “Well you just tell them I can’t bloody wait,” he called as he left. “It’s been far too long since we left Hogwarts.”

“Three sodding weeks,” Ginny muttered under her breath. “Far too long.” She turned back to remake the bed her stepson had ruined.

“Oh, dear Merlin.” Ginny sighed and looked up to see Draco standing in the doorway, a wicked grin on his face. “When’s Gryffindor arriving, then?”

Ginny threw a pillow at him. “You and your son!”

He chuckled, tossing the pillow back on the bed. “The room looks good, Gin.”

“Well, thank you,” she replied with mock stiffness. “I only hope the boys-”

“The boys will like it just fine,” he spoke over her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her shoulder. “I love you.”

She turned, taking in his face, lit up with happiness. His gray eyes were bright and crinkled at the corners from his smile. She pushed his hair, which had fallen across his forehead, to the side and smiled back at him. “I love you, too.”

“That’s a lot of red, Mum,” Lily declared from the doorway, cradling her kitten against her chest.

Ginny sighed heavily. “So I’ve heard.”

“How’s Argencio?” Draco asked, bending down to examine the kitten.

“Brilliant,” Lily replied, beaming at him. “Although I don’t think he likes Scorpius much.”

“Well good, because I don’t like him either!” came the reply from down the corridor.

“Only your daughter would give her kitten a name because of a Latin root,” Ginny remarked playfully, swatting at Draco.

Lily smirked up at her parents. “Are we going to pick the boys up on Thursday?”

“Oh, no,” Ginny replied, twisting her hands anxiously. “No, they’re arriving by Floo. I just hope they don’t get lost…”

“They won’t get lost,” Draco told her.

“They might!” Scorpius called from his room. “You don’t know Albus Potter like I do.”

“Scorpius Hyperion!” Draco roared, storming from the room.

Ginny gave a nervous titter, sinking down to the bed. Lily sighed, rising from the floor, and plopped the kitten into her mother’s lap.

“Don’t worry, Mum. No matter how many lions you stuff into this room, the boys will probably be buggers. So there’s really no use worrying about it.”

Ginny furrowed her brow at this, turning to her daughter. “And you’re all right with that?”

Lily shrugged. “I have to be. And anyway, they’ve always been buggers.”

***

Ginny sighed, tossing another pair of heels back into the heap at the bottom of her closet. Did she really have nothing besides her boots that went with her blue dress? No flats, no heels, no respectable shoes?

“I’ll just find another dress,” she muttered, shimmying out of the first one and letting it fall to the floor.

A replacement proved hard to find, considering she had already tried on half her closet before settling on her blue dress. Ginny had spent twenty minutes pacing her and Draco’s room in her knickers, cursing her irrational behavior and nervous stomach cramps, when the bedroom door creaked open.

Ginny looked up, startled, and sunk to the floor as Draco’s eyes widened at the sight of her. He stood frozen by the door for a moment, and she burst into tears.

“Shh,” he soothed, crouching down beside her on the floor. “Shh. What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” Ginny whispered, trying to swallow her tears. “I don’t really know what’s wrong. I just feel so upset. The boys are coming and what if…?”

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling her into a hug. “It will be fine. The boys will not care what color you painted the room or what outfit you wear. You are their mother, and they love you. And so do I.”

She sniffed, dragging the back of her hand across her face to wipe away tears. Draco tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear and brushed his lips against hers.

She leaned in closer, suddenly dizzy by how near he was, and kissed him back. She pressed into him, wrapped up in him, needing to be as close as possible.

“Ginny,” he moaned against her skin, and she tilted her neck as he trailed his lips downward. He slid his hands beneath her and lifted her up in one fluid moment.

Her back was suddenly flat against the bed, and he was over her, kissing her like his life depended on it. His kisses consumed her, crashing against her like waves, and she threw her head back in response.

For a solid half hour, she forgot all about the upcoming visit.

***

She always enjoyed the sound of her heels slapping on hard floors. Now, as she paced the parlor, the three other Malfoys watching her from the sofa, it made her feel just a little bit empowered.

“Mum?” Lily prompted, sinking farther back into the couch.

“Right. Sorry,” Ginny said, smoothing her hands over her skirt. Her knees were shaking beneath her. “Before the boys get here, I just want to say to you all…”

She paused, turning to look at them. Scorpius looked so much like his dad, sitting upright on the couch with his blond hair smoothed to one side and his hands on the knees of his neatly pressed trousers. Lily smiled encouragingly at her, resting her head on the arm of the couch, sitting shoulder to shoulder with her brother.

And Draco…well, Draco looked absolutely beautiful, staring at her as he had in Paris, a little half smile playing at his lips. He winked at her, his eyes twinkling, and she cleared her throat.

“…that I love you. I know I’ve been crazy this week, and I know I’m nervous, but you’ve all done wonderfully putting up with it.”

Scorpius was smirking teasingly at her, as if he knew exactly what was coming next. She turned back into her pace.

“But my boys are coming today. And I haven’t spent any real time with them in about a year. At least, not where we’ve got on well. So they’re going to be here for a month, and if you could all just please try your hardest to behave, and get along, I would really appreciate it.”

She stopped pacing, halting the tapping shoes to look at them again. They were all smiling at her.

“Of course we’ll do our best, Gin,” Draco replied, rising from the couch to pull her into a hug.

“Yeah, as long as they don’t pull out their wands, I won’t either,” Scorpius drawled, lounging back into the couch alongside Lily.

“Me too!” she peeped.

Draco cleared his throat, looking at his children sternly. They both simply shrugged.

“They’ll be here in half an hour then?” Draco whispered in Ginny’s ear.

She nodded, sinking gratefully into his hug. She heard the children get off the couch behind her and scurry back upstairs. She broke away as Draco stroked her hair, smiling at him weakly.

“I just was going to…”

“…go check on the room,” he finished, smirking at her. “Go ahead.”

She nodded appreciatively and took the stairs two at a time in her heels.

The room was ready. There was really nothing she could do to make it more perfect for the boys. But she circled it anyway, taking in the red walls and bedspreads, a tall bookcase groaning under the weight of literature for Albus and a stack of Quidditch magazines for James. Their names were painted in gold on the headboards, and they each had their own dresser so they wouldn’t have to share.

Ginny sighed, lowering herself into the armchair. She hugged herself tightly, trying to slow her breathing. She hated being so irrational all the time, but…

“Don’t you love us anymore?” Albus’ voice rang loudly in her ears.

She bit her lip, forcing herself not to cry. James was thirteen now. He was a teenager, destined to hate his parents anyway. But how would he treat her now? Now that he had a real reason to hate her.

Ginny sighed again, glancing up at the clock on the wall, and rose from the chair to head back downstairs. Only ten minutes left.

“…what if they’re horrible again?”

Ginny paused at the sound of Lily’s voice, so small and sad. She peeked into the doorway, expecting to see Lily voicing her concerns to Argencio, but it was Scorpius sitting across the room from her daughter.

“I’ll make sure they don’t,” he replied menacingly.

Lily laughed. “You can’t stop them. And you promised Mum you’d behave.”

“And I will. Unless the idiot Potters mess with you. Only I can do that.”

“But Mum…”

“What Ginny doesn’t know won’t hurt her, Lily,” Scorpius said consolingly. “Come on, it’s time to go.”

Ginny hurried down the stairs, her heart aching for her daughter. The thought of Scorpius in a fight with her sons made her stomach clench, but at least she knew he was looking out for Lily.

“You ready?” Draco asked, turning from the fireplace as she marched into the room.

She nodded stiffly, clasping her hands together behind her back. Scorpius and Lily were fast behind her.

“Ready, buggers?” Draco called.

They both smiled at him, falling in line beside Ginny. For five minutes, the four of them stared blankly at the fireplace, waiting for something to appear within the flames.

Ginny heard a harsh knocking on the door in the adjacent foyer and looked curiously at Draco. He shrugged.

“Could you get it?” she asked, a pleading tone in her voice.

He nodded, and she returned her gaze to the fireplace. Vaguely, she heard the front door open and silence follow.

“Draco?” she called. Silence followed. “Draco, who is it?”

When he didn’t answer, she gave the fireplace a last fleeting look before striding to the parlor.

“Draco, who-”

She stopped short, her mouth open at the sight of her sons standing on the doorstep, a white-knuckled hand clapped on each of their shoulders.

“Hello, Potter,” Draco growled finally.

Author’s Note: Ah, the response from the last chapter was amazing! Thanks to all of you who reviewed, it definitely helped me write this much faster. And so I posted it faster, just for you. Again, thanks to Embellished, who’s basically just amazing.

Chapter 14: Visions of Red

He gripped the cold brass handle harder, staring with a fiercely furrowed brow into the pair of dark green eyes.

Despite the twenty years since they had last seen each other, Harry Potter looked nearly the same to Draco. His hair was a little lighter and his eyes were crinkled at the corners, but that superior, self-righteous stare still sent Draco’s head spinning and his stomach plummeting.

“Evening, Malfoy,” Potter returned with a curt nod. “Ginny.” He directed his comment past Draco, and Draco turned to see his wife standing in her three-inch heels, dumbstruck.

“Harry – I – what are you doing here?” she stammered, moving forward and sliding a hand over Draco’s shoulder. Her emerald wedding ring glinted conspicuously against his sweater. Her possessive touch felt like dead weight against him, and he fought the urge to shrug her off.

“Molly suggested I drop the boys off myself,” he answered wryly. Draco thought he saw the slightest flicker of triumph cross Potter’s features. “She didn’t want them getting lost in the Floo Network.”

“No, of course not,” Ginny responded smoothly. “Thanks for bringing them over. Come on in, boys, I’ll just levitate your bags upstairs.”

She motioned for her sons to move forward, and they both looked up at their father cautiously. When Potter nodded, they both moved forward grudgingly. Draco kept his eyes on Potter, not trusting himself to refrain from channeling his anger towards Ginny’s sons.

Ginny’s smile faltered a bit, but she ushered them into the foyer. Lily and Scorpius stood silently in the arch into the living room.

“Lily-” Ginny blurted, looking up as she attempted to levitate the bags and point the boys up the stairs. “Lily, why don’t you show the boys to their room?”

But Lily was staring blankly at the man on the doorstep, who was returning the stare with a tortured look. His face contorted, and he seemed to be struggling between repulsion and affection. Draco clutched at the side of his trousers with a balled fist, ready to chuck the bastard right out of his house if he did anything to hurt the little girl.

“Lily…?” Ginny trailed off, following her daughter’s gaze. “Oh!” There was a heavy, awkward silence as Ginny stared feebly at her daughter. “Scorpius, dear, could you…?”

The other boy nodded, subtly taking Lily’s hand and starting up the stairs. The Potter boys shot one last look at their father before exchanging a disgruntled look of their own and following Scorpius up the stairs.

Draco turned back to the man still standing on his doorstep and tried to muster an aloof little smile. With the children upstairs, there was nothing stopping him from being as rude and arrogant as he liked. And he deserved it! How dare he – how dare he – show up at Draco’s house unannounced like some family friend who happened to be in the neighborhood?

“Well, thanks for dropping them off, and we’ll be seeing you-”

“Ginny, could I have a word?” Potter cut in, looking past him, looking through him, at his wife. Draco squelched a growl at the base of his throat, ready to slam the door in the other man’s face.

No, he could not have a word. What could he possible have to say to Ginny? What could he possibly–

“Oh – I – err,” Ginny fumbled nervously. She brushed a fallen wisp of red hair back behind her ear and took a deep breath. “Sure.” She smiled with regained confidence and stepped outside, shutting the door behind her.

The slam of the door echoed off the walls and ceiling, and then the weight of the silence crashed down on Draco. He took a shaky breath and began to climb the staircase slowly, hoping to find the children behaving decently.

“…you both get your own rooms?” He recognized the belligerent tone as that of the redheaded boy.

“James…it’s fine,” his brother pleaded breathily.

“It is not fine! I have to share a bedroom with you for a whole month? Meanwhile Lily and Serpent-boy over here each get their own rooms. I don’t think so.”

Draco felt his stomach heave. The boy’s tone was exactly the same as his father’s had been. Oh, wasn’t it enough that he had to relive the memories of his twisted father while living in England? Now he had to revisit the most humiliating incidents of his Hogwarts years, too?

“Shut it, Potter. The room is yours, and your mum worked really hard on it. So why don’t you just sit your arse down on your Gryffindor bed and think about being grateful?” Draco heard Scorpius say sneeringly, and while part of him thought he should scold the boy for his harsh words, he couldn’t hide that he was genuinely pleased. His son was a good deal more mature than he had ever been.

“Please, Malfoy,” James scoffed. “Why aren’t you spending the summer with your whore of a mother? New boyfriend already?”

Draco stepped into the doorway, his face a mask of indifference, and said, “Scorpius, Lily, could you help me with dinner, please?” Scorpius turned from glaring at James, his hands balled into fists and his eyes flashing dangerously. Lily gave him a little shove toward their father.

“Sure thing, Dad,” Scorpius ground out.

“Make yourselves comfortable, boys,” Draco said genially. “Dinner will be in about half an hour.”

James and Albus nodded, staring rebelliously at the floor.

Draco turned and strode down the hallway, dragging Scorpius by his arm while Lily floated along unhappily beside them.

“Dad, did you hear the little bastards?” Scorpius fumed, struggling against his father’s hold.

“Scorpius,” Draco hissed, wrenching his arm up sharply. “You have to control yourself!” The last thing he needed was for Ginny to think that his son was playing a hand in her crumbling relationships with her sons.

Scorpius twisted away from his father, scowling. “You heard them, Dad! Lily, didn’t they-”

“Scorpius,” Lily whimpered. “Please?”

The boy faltered at that, stopping to stare at his sister. Her eyes were a shade of blue so reminiscent of the Weasley twins’ that it caused Draco’s chest to ache. Scorpius’ eyes softened and his mouth turned up into a small smile.

“All right,” he said to Lily. He turned back to Draco, his jaw jutting out again. “I’ll behave.”

Draco clapped a hand on his shoulder, nodding appreciatively. “Good. Now go help Ginny with dinner.”

Within fifteen minutes, the table was groaning under the weight of the food Ginny had spent several hours preparing, and Draco was seated at the head of the table, waiting for the Potter children to enter the dining room.

Ginny shifted from foot to foot in the doorway, leaning back to look up the stairs every few seconds. Her anxiety seemed to be filling up the room, so much so that Draco had to loosen his collar. Scorpius cleared his throat and made a funny face at Lily, who cracked a smile for the first time since her brothers had arrived.

The two boys finally clomped into the dining room several minutes late, looking sullen and mutinous. They both took their seats opposite Lily and Scorpius, and stared down silently at their empty plates.

“Let’s eat,” Ginny said quietly.

While Scorpius and Draco called out what they wanted to eat to have it appear magically on their plates, Lily peeked up over the top of the table at her brothers, folding and unfolding her napkin in her lap.

“Mum made your favorite roast, Al,” she said timidly. The conversation and clinking of silverware stopped. Silence buzzed. Draco couldn’t help but be so proud of Lily, whose courageous spirit was more than he could fathom.

Albus gave his sister the briefest of smiles. “Yeah.” He paused. “Roast.” Ginny smiled as the roast appeared on his plate. James rolled his eyes.

“So, James, how was Quidditch season this year? I hear Gryffindor won the House Cup again,” Draco offered, raising his eyebrows. He could feel Ginny’s eyes on him, but whether it was an appreciative or reproachful look, he couldn’t tell.

James’ mouth twitched, but he looked up with a twisted little smile. “It was a good season. We beat out everyone.”

Albus smiled widely. “James is a brilliant Chaser.”

Draco tried to give the boys his best genuine smile. “So I’ve heard.”

Scorpius snorted into his plate, but ducked his head when Draco shot a glare at him.

“How about you, Scorpius?” James shot back, looking up furiously. “You trying out for Slytherin next year?”

Scorpius stabbed his potato viciously with his fork. “Yeah,” he spat.

“I’m sure you’ll make it,” James returned airily. “Slytherin’s been lacking talent for the past decade.”

Scorpius nodded tersely, staring down at his plate.

“Scorpius is a wicked flyer,” Lily blurted, looking at James with hard eyes.

He gave a short bark of a laugh. “You’ve seen him?”

“We raced,” Lily said proudly.

James opened his mouth to retort, but his mother held up a hand. “Enough Quidditch talk, boys. You know Grandma’s rule about Quidditch at the dinner table.”

“We’re not at Grandma’s, Mother,” James said with the barest hint of a snarl.

Draco looked up to see that Ginny had paled, and she was twisting her fork through her otherwise untouched noodles.

“Well, it’s my rule too.”

“Sorry, I’ve lost my appetite,” James growled. “Excuse me.” He pushed his chair out and stomped from the room, making each footstep up the stairs echo loudly.

Lily looked helplessly at her mother, who appeared just as lost. Draco stared across the table at her until she was forced to meet his gaze. Her dulling brown eyes were wide and heavy with sadness, and it broke his heart to look into them.

“Mummy?” Albus’ timid voice broke the silence. “Good roast.”

Ginny let out a tittering, relieved laugh, and her face split into an easy smile. “Thank you, darling.”

***

“You told him what?”

Draco cringed at the sound of his shout, which echoed up the stairs and into his darkened bedroom.

“I told him the boy was dead, Lucius. For Draco.”

Draco jumped to his feet at the slap of flesh against flesh, running down the hall to the top of the staircase.

“We were this close, Narcissa!” he bellowed, his white hair wild and his face a deepening purple. “Another two hours and the castle would have been ours!”

She moaned from the floor. “But our son would have been dead!” she ground out, glaring at him from narrowed eyes.

Lucius’ boot collided with her side and she let out a scream that made Draco’s hair stand on end. He had to help her. He had to save her. Lucius was pulling out his wand…

“Draco!”

Her call brought him rushing back, pulling him farther and farther from the scene until he had to open his eyes, widened and glazed over.

“Are you all right? You were moaning in your sleep,” she whispered, brushing sweaty hair back from his face.

He could hardly see her features in the darkness of the night, but he sat up and stared at her anyway. “Nothing,” he muttered shakily. “It was nothing.” The dream burst across his vision once more, his father’s cold gray eyes and maniacal smile blinding him. Draco shivered.

He could feel her eyes drilling into him with a fierce glare, but before she could say anything he asked, “What did Potter want outside?”

She was silent for a moment, crawling back to her side of the bed, but saying, “He just wanted to let me know that I can call him if the boys give us trouble.” She sighed.

Draco was silent. He knew she would never take Potter up on that offer.

“Anything else?” he murmured casually.

She shifted irritably beside him and blew out a lingering sigh. “He told me he’s seeing someone else.”

Draco’s mind flashed bright for a moment, so that all he could see was light hanging over his head. His eyebrows came together, and he turned on his side to look at his wife.

“And?” He let the word slip out, his tone perfectly neutral, and waited as she stared at the ceiling.

“And nothing. He just wanted to let me know.” She turned her head to give him a weak smile before refocusing on the ceiling. He returned the feeble gesture, even though she couldn’t see it, because it expressed exactly how he felt.

He cleared his throat nervously. “Are you sure you’re okay? You hardly ate anything for dinner,” he added, trying to rationalize his worry.

“My stomach felt unsettled,” she remarked. “I suppose I’m just a little nervous about the boys.”

He inched closer to her, pressing a feather-light kiss against her shoulder. She smiled, leaned back into him, and fell asleep.

***

In the week leading up to Lily’s birthday, Draco did his best to forget about his nightmares and focus on his family. He blocked out his mother’s scream and his father’s eyes the best he could, but unfortunately, it wasn’t much more comfortable to think about the four children under his roof.

He had the crawling feeling that something was going on between the boys. Early one morning he found Scorpius at the back door, dressed in what he had worn the day before.

“I just went for a walk, Dad. Honestly,” he had claimed when Draco tried to question him on it.

The next morning, James spit up his breakfast, gagging and retching horribly. He paused, looking around at the five other individuals staring at him.

“Sorry. Went down the wrong pipe,” he muttered, jutting his chin out belligerently. Draco tapped his fingers uneasily as he saw his son and the eldest Potter exchange glares.

“I’ll help you wash the dishes, Mum,” James offered after breakfast. Draco watched as Ginny’s face lit up beautifully, her smile nearly splitting her face in half.

“That would be wonderful, James,” she replied.

Scorpius snorted loudly, and Ginny and James both turned to glare at him.

“Scorpius, let’s go for a walk,” Draco said loudly before any insults or hexes could be thrown.

“What has been going on between you and James?” Draco asked once he and his son were far enough from the house.

Scorpius kicked at a patch of grass angrily as he and Draco walked further down the path. “Nothing, all right? It’s no different than when we were at school.”

“But that’s the thing, Scorpius!” Draco replied exasperatedly. “You’re not at school! You’re at home. And James Potter, whether you like him or not, is Ginny’s son and Lily’s brother.”

Scorpius sulked silently for another few strides before Draco sighed and said, “You had fights with Lily when you visited over the Easter hols.”

“I didn’t know her then,” Scorpius mumbled. Draco glared at him. “Look, Dad, I do know James Potter. He’s an arrogant little arsehole who throws a fit when he doesn’t get his own way!”

Draco laughed then, such a loud and ridiculous laugh that Scorpius stopped to stare at him.

“What?”

“You just described yourself, Scorpius.”

The boy scowled at that.

“You promised Ginny that you would behave.”

“I also promised Lily I wouldn’t let her git of a brother ruin her birthday.”

“He won’t,” Draco groaned. “As long as you don’t take his bait.”

“I’ll try.”

“Scorpius…” Draco growled warningly.

“I’ll try! That’s really the best I can promise you.”

Draco laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair. “All right, son.”

***

The following days were slightly quieter, with no more obvious disagreements between the two eldest children, but Draco still had the feeling that things were brewing right underneath his nose.

He tried to tell himself that the only reason behind his worry was how much Scorpius and James reminded him of Potter and himself when they were younger, and he really would not have expected to get along with Potter in such close quarters.

Ginny was delighted with the boys. They had warmed to her so much that the three of them had spent an afternoon out by the lake together. Draco couldn’t bring himself to voice his concerns to her, not only because he had no real evidence of any quarrels, but because his wife was in such a state of bliss. But keeping his mounting concerns to himself made Draco’s mind agitated, and the anxiety only seemed to build within him.

The afternoon before Lily’s birthday, the present Draco had bought her arrived by owl order. Excited more than a grown wizard should be, he raced upstairs with the package tucked under his arm to hide it in his closet.

He had tucked the long parcel behind his dress robes when a loud, disgusting noise broke through the still silence of his bedroom. Straightening up and listening as another retch came from his own bathroom, Draco tiptoed to the door.

He was finally going to catch one of the boys in their pranks. He knew something had been going on, he just knew it! Scorpius’ semi-promise hadn’t exactly been reassuring, and he was determined to make sure nothing got in the way of Ginny’s happiness. Absolutely nothing.

Fists clenched and heart pounding, he barged into the bathroom.

“I told you-”

He stopped short at the sight of his wife clinging shakily to the porcelain basin, her sweaty hair plastered to her face.

“Ginny!” he cried, suddenly beside her on the floor.

She laughed unsteadily, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “It’s nothing, I’m just not feeling well. I’ve been nervous about the boys all week.” She was hysterical, babbling as if he wasn’t even there, and he could hear the fear laced in her voice. It was the same as what was eating away at his heart.

“But, Gin-”

“My stomach was upset last week, too, remember? When I was getting the room ready?”

She stared at him, her eyes wide and worried, and he stared back.

“Ginny, could it be-?”

A shrill, earsplitting scream broke into his thought, and Draco was on his feet and running blindly down the hall before he could blink.

“Scorpius!” Lily was screaming; he could hear it from the Potters’ room.

He burst into the room, aware that Ginny was right behind him, and first saw his daughter bent over his son, sobbing.

Her red hair flowed right over his red blood, spilled all over the floor. Scorpius’ fingers lay still only inches from his wand, where it had fallen to the floor.

Draco looked up, his vision red, his whole mind on fire, ready to rip someone limb from limb, to see James Potter with a look of total horror on his face, a wand gripped loosely in his hand.

“Scorpius!” Lily bawled, laying her head down on his chest.

“Lily, move!” Ginny screeched, suddenly beside the boy on the floor. Draco could only stare dumbly at the Potter children.

“I didn’t – it wasn’t-” James was stuttering. His own wand clattered to the floor.

Ginny looked up, her eyes wide and dark and filled with terror. “We need to get him to St. Mungo’s.”

Author’s Note: So you guys have been so amazing with the reviews for the past couple of chapters. A few of you in particular have left me with just paragraphs of comments, and they make me giddy when I read them. Thanks, as always, to the lovely Embellished. I put you through so much angst.

Chapter 15: Going Unsaid

“Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco started, jumping to his feet at the sight of the approaching Healer. “Yes?”

The man sighed, hanging his head with a remorseful look in his eyes. “I’m sorry. Your son has-”

“Ginny!”

Her eyes snapped open to see Draco leaning over her. His anxious stare told her she had been showing signs of a nightmare.

Bright, blinding lights hung along the ceiling, and she blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted. People were rushing everywhere. Ginny scrambled to sit upright in her chair, her fingers wrapped around the armrests with viselike grip. “Where is he?” she whispered.

Draco shook his head sadly, his jaw clenched tight. He looked just like the Healer in her dream. “No one’s come out yet.”

He rubbed his eyes tiredly, and Ginny looked around the waiting room. Albus was flipping through one of the magazines, his hair much messier than usual on one side where he had slept on it. Lily lay asleep under Draco’s cloak, her head on James’ lap. Ginny saw Draco watch them for a moment, but then look away, his face twisted with disgust.

He brought his fist down upon the table with a sudden thud, making everyone else jump. “Goddamn it! How long does it take to-?”

“Draco, please,” Ginny soothed, placing her hand over his. She cast a worried glance across the room at a pair of witches who were staring.

“No, Gin. No. My son is in there. I don’t even know how bloody serious it is!” he ranted, his eyes wide and bloodshot.

Ginny almost couldn’t hear him over the erratic heartbeat pounding in her ears. She shot a nervous look at James. The boy was a sickly shade of green under his freckles and watching Draco with terrified eyes. Lily shifted restlessly against him in her slumber.

Ginny shook her head angrily and grabbed Draco’s arm, dragging him down the hall. She pressed Draco against the wall as a group of hurried Healers rushed past with their wands drawn.

“I know how hard this is, Draco,” she seethed. “I care about Scorpius too. I know he is your son, and not mine,” she added with a hand held up as he opened his mouth to retort. “But James is my son, and I know he feels horrible about this accident.”

“It was no bloody accident,” Draco hissed, his eyes narrowed terribly.

“Yes it fucking was!” Ginny cried, stamping her foot. “You can’t seriously think that James intended to seriously injure Scorpius! They took the boys’ wands to see exactly what happened, and they’ll tell us it was a simple accident. They both had their wands drawn.”

“God, you forced this on them! I knew it wouldn’t be good having them come, especially after Easter! But you just couldn’t see it! He – that boy – Potter’s brat has had it out for Scorpius since the second he arrived! He hates me and my son, just like his father does! Scorpius tried his hardest to be civil. He told me so! He was just trying to protect Lily from that-”

“You had best choose your next words very carefully,” Ginny said quietly, her eyes flashing dangerously.

“Look, Potter maimed me when we were in school with that curse! What was it, Setu – Seck-”

“Sectusempra,” Ginny finished coolly. “Yes, I know. I heard all about it in the Gryffindor common room that night. Or did you forget that I’m one of them too?”

He was silent for a moment, his scowl frozen on his face, and Ginny couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit triumphant.

“Harry never meant to seriously injure you, and James certainly didn’t mean to hurt Scorpius,” she added, her mouth drawn into a grim frown.

“Maybe not,” Draco spat, “but if Scorpius isn’t going to be all right – and by all right I mean one hundred percent, exactly the same – I will never be able to forgive him, Ginny. Not ever.”

He brushed past her back down the hall to the waiting room, and Ginny felt the weight of his last puncturing blow. The anger was draining faster than she could call it back. She blew out a sigh heavy with unshed tears and lowered her hands to the curve of her abdomen, left with nothing more than sadness.

***

She swung her legs beneath her, letting them bang loudly on the cabinets, and stared at the clock. The hands seemed to be moving more slowly than usual, but she watched anyway, counting down into her fifteenth hour at the hospital. It was almost midnight – almost Lily’s birthday.

Ginny sighed loudly, tugging at the hem of the cloth hospital gown and then reaching a hand up to scratch just below the clip that held all her hair piled up on top of her head. She was uncomfortable and cold, but she knew the Healer wouldn’t be back with her results for at least a few more minutes.

Her heart twisted at the thought of her three children curled up in the waiting room, nestled against one another in sleep. The fact that Draco was there with them was supposed to make her feel less anxious, but in reality it was doing the opposite.

She had seen something so reminiscent of their Hogwarts years flash in his eyes when he talked about James. It was unadulterated hatred, and it made her heart ache violently to think about it.

She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her folded legs, rocking gently. It was taking all her control not to leap down from the table and rush back down to the waiting room to be with her kids, but she needed to be here right now. She needed to know.

She held her breath as the knob twisted and Healer Sawyer came back in with his nose to his clipboard, making little checkmarks against the parchment.

“I still can’t believe you needed this done at this hour,” he said in his monotone voice, not looking up from his papers. “If it were anyone but you, Mrs. Potter, they would have said-”

“It’s Mrs. Malfoy, actually,” Ginny corrected, her tone calm but her heart pounding frantically.

He cleared his throat, looking at her over the top of his notes with disapproving eyes. “Ahem. Yes, of course.”

She banged her heel against the counter again, not able to control her fidgeting.

“Well, Mrs. Malfoy. The tests have come back.”

“Yes?”

“And I have the results. They’ve been confirmed twice. Completely accurate.”

Ginny refrained from banging her heel again. “Well?”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “You were correct. You are, indeed, pregnant.”

***

She could hardly breathe as she shuffled along the corridor back to the waiting room.

“Two and a half months along. The baby’s due early to mid January.”

A baby? They had never talked about a baby. Draco might not even want a baby. How could she tell him? Especially when he hated her own child?

“What was she like as a baby?”

He had never been there for Lily. He had never known. He had never reached down into her crib and had her wrap her tiny fist around a single finger. How could she expect him to understand how attached she already was to the baby growing inside of her? What if he didn’t want it?

Tears began to well in her throat, and she let them fall this time. Probably a result of my stupid hormones, she thought bitterly.

She looked up from the floor, finally in the waiting room, to see no one. All four chairs once occupied by her family were empty now. She whipped her head around frantically, thoughts of her unborn child wiped from her mind for the first time in the past half hour.

Ginny rushed to the desk, leaned over, and blurted, “Have they been allowed to see him?”

The woman behind the counter looked up at her bewilderedly. “What?”

“Has family been allowed to see Scorpius Malfoy?” she demanded, her voice rising.

“Yes, they were called in ten minutes ago,” she replied, checking a sheet on her desk. “Room 627.”

She found the boys sitting in chairs outside the room, looking teary eyed and miserable.

“Mummy!” Albus cried, leaping from his seat into her arms. “Where have you been?”

She hugged him tightly and ruffled his black hair affectionately, trying to swallow down tears. “I just had to take care of something, Al,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “James didn’t mean to, Mum, honest. He just…”

“I know, sweetie,” she told him.

She turned to James, curled up in his own seat with wide, blank eyes. “James?”

He turned his head to look at her, but his eyes seemed to be staring past her. Ginny sucked in a worried breath. “James?”

He nodded at her. “Yeah?” The word came out as a croak.

“It was not your fault. It was an accident, James,” she said firmly.

“I really didn’t mean for-”

“It was an accident,” she repeated. He nodded glumly as she kissed his forehead. She saw him draw back into himself as she straightened up and squared her shoulders to enter the room. Her chest was tight with swallowed tears, but she pushed the door open anyway.

The room was filled with light. It floated down from the hanging lamps and streamed in through the windows, illuminating the blond figure lying in the bed.

He looked up and smiled at her, his hair glowing like a halo under the bright lights. She bit her lip at the sight of his pale, pinched face, which looked so haggard and drawn that she wondered if he was still in a dire condition.

“Hey, Ginny,” Scorpius said softly, smiling weakly.

“Hi.” It was all she could get out.

There was a knowing spark in the boy’s eye as he turned his gaze back upon Lily. Her red hair was hanging limply about her shoulders, and her face looked just as tired as her brother’s, but her eyes were shining brightly and her face was lit up with a smile.

“I promised not to let anyone ruin your birthday, Lily,” Scorpius told her with a grim smile quirking his lips. “I’m sorry that I ended up ruining it.”

Lily shook her head, her eyes swimming with tears. “You didn’t ruin it,” she whispered.

Draco leaned forward and hugged her tightly, kissing her temple. “Happy birthday, dragon.”

Ginny felt her stomach flop uncomfortably.

“Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy?”

Ginny turned to see a Healer poking his head through the door. She nodded, wiping a fallen tear from the corner of her eye.

“Could I speak to you for a moment?”

Draco cleared his throat and gave the man a curt nod. He stepped carefully over Lily and walked past Ginny into the hall. She hesitated only a moment before following.

The Healer led them silently down the hall and into a small office. The door clicked shut, and Ginny felt the tension of everything explode in the space of the cramped room.

“How is he really?” Draco asked, anxiety cutting his calm tone to shreds.

The Healer gave him the briefest of smiles. “He’s doing fine, and he’ll make a full recovery.”

Draco opened his mouth to ask another question, but Ginny beat him to it. “What caused the damage? I’ve never seen adolescents-”

“Oh, they’re quite capable of doing some damage,” the Healer said with a chuckle. “But in the case of your sons, neither cast a destructive spell. It was the collision of two enchantments cast at the exact same moment. They repelled each other, and both your boys took the impact of a surge of force. Scorpius’ head just happened to hit the corner of a piece of furniture.”

“But then why couldn’t we heal him?” Draco demanded harshly, and he shot her a look that warned her from cutting him off again. Ginny quailed under his hard and spiteful glare.

“I’m afraid the contact of such a strong magical force sent him into shock. His body didn’t respond to any form of healing magic for several hours.”

“So he’ll be all right, then?” Draco asked slowly.

The Healer nodded. “You’ll be able to take him home tomorrow. If you’ll excuse me.” He nodded at each of them once more and then strode back out into the hall.

There was a heavy, awkward silence. Ginny almost couldn’t stand the pressure between the two of them, and she focused her gaze on the floor, too afraid to look him in the eye.

“Where were you?” The question, while it set her nerves on edge, was not accusatory or belligerent. He was trying to overcome the silence.

“I had to take care of something,” she replied quietly. She forced herself to look up at him, and she was immediately consumed by that hard gray stare. His eyes were swirling with a million different shades of gray, like the sky before a storm, like the choice of life, all blurred together and impossible to read.

“I actually have something to tell you.”

But the gaze kept boring into her, lifting away layer after layer until he was staring at nothing but her core. She was completely naked under that stare. He could see right through her.

“Yes?”

“I’m…” He looked at her expectantly, and she saw it then. The anger churning so clearly in his eyes. The anger at her son and the anger at her. The magnitude of the hatred hit her like a blow to the stomach. Her head was spinning.

She knew he had demons to fight. She had seen him flail in his nightmares, running from ghosts that she couldn’t see, and she knew that he would someday share them with her. Or she had hoped.

He had told her the memories that haunted him were from after the war, and she had seen the way people stared at him in Diagon Alley. They could work through those issues; she knew they could.

But she couldn’t handle this. She couldn’t handle the leftover hatred of his Hogwarts days and her ex-husband. She couldn’t handle when he looked at her and saw Harry. She couldn’t handle when he looked at her son with total loathing in his eyes. Would he always?

And if it would always be like that, how could she live her life? How could she live with him and Lily and another child, yet still have her two sons from her first marriage in a separate world?

She took a deep breath.

“I’m going to take the boys back to Harry’s tomorrow. For at least a few weeks while Scorpius gets back on his feet.”

He kept staring at her, and she stared back, daring him to ask her. He had to know already, didn’t he? Or at least suspect?

He tore his gaze from hers and fixed it on the floor. “Okay.”

He turned and walked back into the hall, and Ginny lowered herself into one of the chairs, too afraid to even cry.

Author’s Note: The review response was, again, amazing. You all made my week, and I couldn’t be more appreciative of my readers. I hope you keep it up! A big thanks to Embellished, who keeps sifting through my work with no end in sight. You are the best! Enjoy:

Chapter 16: A Cluttered Mind

“Dad, I’m fine!” Scorpius whined as Draco straightened his pillow. “I really don’t need to be in bed! The Healer said-”

“That you had to take it easy,” Draco said sharply.

“But that doesn’t mean you have to put me to bed the second I get home,” Scorpius grumbled. He furrowed his brow, giving Draco a thoughtful look. “I bet Ginny would let me go outside.”

Draco paused, his head spinning slightly. He straightened up, staring at his son intently. “Well Ginny’s not here. So you’ll stay in bed, where you belong.”

He ignored the look of fierce rebellion churning in his son’s eyes and excused himself from the room.

He felt as if the floor were tilting beneath him as he stumbled down the corridor, hand slapping against the wall to keep his balance. He shoved open a door and collapsed onto something soft and solid and red.

His head swimming dangerously with visions of both his mother and his son sprawled across the floor, Draco forced himself to sit up.

The room seemed to be even more blindingly crimson than he remembered. He blinked rapidly as his vision blurred for a moment. He hadn’t meant to stumble into this room. He hadn’t wanted to ever see it again. He hadn’t meant to, he hadn’t meant to…

Draco felt as if he might throw up just sitting in the room, but somehow, he couldn’t leave. He slid from the bed into the armchair and leaned back, taking in the entire room until it seemed to be taking him in. Like it was swallowing him up.

His gaze fell to the floor, where the red stain still stretched across the carpet like a gaping wound. No one had bothered to remove it in the rush to get Scorpius to the hospital, and he couldn’t bring himself to lift it now. He couldn’t even summon the will.

The stain had spread like a giant red rose blooming across the floor. Draco shuddered, aware of how familiar that stain looked. How terrible her long blond hair had looked, tangled and soiled with her own blood.

And then all he could see were those flashing green eyes, and then the overwhelming lacerations digging into every inch of his body. The cold, white hardness of the bathroom tiles was pressed up against his cheek, and consciousness was nothing but a fluttering dream.

His thoughts were just as incoherent, jumping from memory to memory with sickening speed. All the while he could hear Ginny sobbing – could feel her shaking in his arms.

He could see Potter lifting his wand deliberately, and for a moment, his memory shifted and it was the man’s redheaded son standing in his place. Draco blinked.

Lily was standing before him, tilting her head uncertainly.

“Daddy?”

He shook his head from side to side, like a dog clearing his ears of water, and sat up a little straighter in the chair. “Yes?”

She was still staring at him, and Draco wondered how long he had been sitting there. “When’s Mum coming home?”

Draco forced a half-hearted little smile and stood up, ruffling Lily’s hair. “Tomorrow, dragon. She’ll be home tomorrow.” He paused, looking down at her as something unreadable stirred in her eyes. “Oh! I have a belated package for you,” he blurted quickly.

“Another present?” Lily squealed, her face momentarily wiped clean of worry.

“Sure thing.” As he motioned her to follow, walking around the giant stain into the corridor, Draco fought the urge to give the room one last look.

He dug the long package out from the bottom of his and Ginny’s closet and handed it to a waiting Lily, who was shuffling from foot to foot excitedly.

She peeled the blue wrapping back carefully from the corners, unfolding the paper neatly from the box. Draco could see an eager flush creeping across her cheeks as she removed the lid.

“Dad!” she screamed, lifting the broomstick from the box. “It’s a broom! A broom!”

He grinned. “I noticed your old one was getting a little too small for you.”

“But this is a Sterling Streak! Leonard Jewkes hasn’t released a new broom since the Silver Arrow, and that was the fastest of its time!” Draco felt as if his face might split in half from smiling as his daughter rattled off Quidditch stats about the Silver Arrow. Maybe she would be as good a flyer as her mother had been. His heart jerked painfully at that.

“Thanks, Dad!” she blurted after finally taking a breath. “Can I go fly it?”

He nodded, his heart still caught in his throat, and managed to smile at her. She grinned and darted off, carrying the broom out in front of her as if it were made of gold.

Draco stared after her, his thoughts circling back around to Ginny. He hadn’t seen her since yesterday, when she gathered her sons up and Apparated them home.

Home. She still called it home. Potter’s home, the Burrow, George’s flat above his shop – everywhere else was home to her. But when she came home – really home, to their home – what could he say to her?

He couldn’t explain, even to himself, the anger that had boiled hot beneath his skin in the hospital. She had been unreasonable in asking him to be rational about James when his son was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. He wasn’t sorry for that. Sometimes Ginny was the one at fault. He knew it didn’t happen often, but in that case he was sure he had been more in the right.

But as much as he saw Potter in his son and hated the boy for it, Draco knew Ginny couldn’t stand how he looked at James. He wasn’t sorry the little shit was gone – he wasn’t, damn it – but he was sorry that it broke Ginny’s heart to see him go.

Maybe I could ask her to bring them back in a couple of weeks, he thought desperately. But the very idea made his blood boil and his head spin. That little monster in his house? With his children! No, he wouldn’t allow it. He couldn’t.

But then he saw Ginny’s face again, her trembling lower lip and her tear-filled, heartbroken eyes, and his chest ached. What could he do to make it up to her? What could he-

“Dad!” Scorpius’ voice broke through his thoughts, and Draco was running down the corridor even while his mind struggled to crash back to reality.

“What?” he gasped, staggering into the doorway of his son’s room. “What’s wrong?”

The boy was propped up against his pillows, an indignant, angered look upon his face, but as far as Draco could tell, completely unharmed.

“You bought Lily a Sterling Streak?” he howled.

Draco blew out a breath he hadn’t know he was holding. “Don’t do that! I thought you were in pain!” he scowled.

“I am in pain,” Scorpius insisted. “You bought Lily the newest, most popular broom on the market! How could you do this to me? My little sister has a better broom than me! And I’m going to be on the Slytherin Quidditch team, Dad!”

“Stop whining,” Draco growled. “You seemed perfectly content with your broom until I bought Lily a new one.”

“Yes, but hers is better!”

“Go to sleep, Scorpius.”

“But, Dad!”

Draco shut the door behind him, smiling in spite of himself, and decided to go outside to watch his daughter fly.

***

His nightmares were worse than ever as he tossed and turned in the giant bed, alone. They were vivid, bright with flashes of green curses and spurts of red blood. The sounds were louder than ever, and echoed long after they should have ceased. He woke up sweating, with every inch of skin pouring out perspiration like tears, and with his hand reaching across her side of the bed. But she wasn’t just out of reach. She wasn’t there at all.

Even after he woke up, checked on Scorpius, and fixed Lily some toast, the nightmares played over and over in his head. He felt like they might spill from his head and into his real life. It was as if there were just so many memories replaying in his mind that he head simply couldn’t hold them any more. He had to literally bite his tongue to keep from snapping at Lily, and it was then that he knew he wasn’t himself. In this state of torment, he was practically his father.

When Ginny finally arrived home, Draco felt the weight of his inadequacies begin to crush him. Ginny smiled at Lily’s shout of joy and stooped down to scoop the little girl up in her arms. He could sense her pain and anger as if they were radiating from her, and yet she seemed to hide her struggles effortlessly, laughing with their daughter and his son as if nothing had ever happened. He wished he could be that brave.

She looked up at him slowly, with eyebrows raised almost to her hairline, and he saw anger smoldering in her eyes. He cringed, feeling as if that resentful glare was actually burning through him. But he took in her whole face also, and there – in her jaw line – he saw her son.

She hadn’t really been angry when they’d parted at the hospital. But Potter’s sons had looked like they had been through a shipwreck, and they clung to her with pain and terror and remorse. There was something else about her, both in the hospital and now as she glared at him, that seemed to flash in her eyes when he looked at her. He felt his heart sink, realizing the boldness of his own anger must have driven her from sadness to resentment.

“Hello, Ginny,” he choked out.

“Hullo,” she returned tersely, rising from her hug with Lily. She rested her hands on the girl’s shoulders.

“The – the boys all right?”

She nodded. “Yes. They’re fine.”

Lily looked up at her mother questioningly, and Ginny smiled down at her. “Why don’t you go get your new broomstick to show me, love?”

“Okay,” Lily readily agreed, skipping off to retrieve her broom.

Ginny smiled after her, but then turned her steely gaze back to Draco. He swallowed.

“I’m…” he began, and she raised her eyebrows expectantly again.

He really was sorry. He knew that was what she needed to hear. He was sorry that he hated her son, he was sorry that her ex-husband was just one of the demons he was struggling with, and he was sorry that being married to him seemed to make her unhappy.

But the words wouldn’t come out. He just couldn’t make them.

“I’ll be in my study.”

***

Draco circled his desk, staring down at the Pensieve. He almost couldn’t remember the last time he had used it, it had been so long ago. He hadn’t had nearly as many things to forget back then.

He glanced at the picture of him and Lily on his desk, and clenched his fists determinedly. He placed his wand at his temple and gently tugged a memory free. It swirled in the basin, brightly colored for a moment, before sinking in.

“No one can help me…I can’t do it…I can’t…” his younger self moaned as the memory whirled in the basin.

Draco sighed again, looking down as the face of his sixteen-year-old self swam across the surface of the liquid, and began to draw another memory.

“Your father is just under a lot of stress right now, Draco. He has his trial hearing tomorrow. Just promise me you’ll stay out of his way.”

Draco winced as his mother’s crooning voice echoed in the Pensieve. “I didn’t actually promise you, Mother,” he whispered.

Draco leaned over the basin, watching different things float to the surface from time to time, his stomach clenching unpleasantly.

The tip of his wand was at his temple again, pulling at his mind, when the door to the study swung open and Ginny stormed in.

“I wish you would just bloody tell me what’s wrong!” she exclaimed, her face reddened and her hair wild. “Because I care about Scorpius too! But damn it, Draco, if you’re going to…” she trailed off, catching sight of the Pensieve. “What is that?”

“Nothing,” Draco blurted, sidestepping in front of it.

“No, what is it?”

“I said it’s nothing.”

She marched across the study, hands on her hips, becoming more enraged with each passing second. “Draco, why can’t you just bloody tell me? What could be so horrible that you can’t even tell your wife about?”

“It’s nothing!” he bellowed, matching her tone.

“It’s not! I see you in your nightmares, how you scream in your sleep! Why don’t you just tell me!” she screamed, tears collecting at the corners of her eyes.

He stopped, breathing hard, and grabbed her wrist. She looked startled for a moment, but still blindly angry. She looked so terrible and beautiful at the same time, flushed brilliantly in anger, that he was torn between kissing her and just giving her what she had asked for. Despite his efforts to shield her from them, Ginny had demanded to share his demons. He was trapped between his present and his past, and there was nowhere to run to. There was nowhere to hide.

“If you really want it, I’ll do you one better. I’ll show you,” he growled.

She was breathing so fiercely through her nose that her nostrils flared, but he saw her nod ever so slightly.

“Just don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.” His voice came out like gravel as he dipped a finger into the basin.

Author’s Note: Oh, boy. I’m sorry. I really, really am. This chapter has been a long time coming. Real life got in the way and writer’s block got the best of me. But once I churned this chapter out, I felt so refreshed going through edits that I can promise you the following updates will come much faster. Hopefully as fast as I used to update. As it is, thanks to those of you who are reading this, because it means you are returning to my story. I have always thought the world of my readers. So here it is:

Chapter 17: The Forgotten Line

Ginny felt her breath forced from her lungs as she plummeted through frigid blackness, Draco’s hand still wrapped firmly around her wrist.

But then they were standing side by side in what looked to be a public toilet, and the change was so sudden that Ginny couldn’t help but wonder if she had simply imagined falling into the basin.

Draco released her wrist and folded his arms across his chest, his eyes clear and sharp and brimming with a fierce sort of pain.

“Draco,” Ginny whispered tentatively, her anger replaced by a startling anxiety over what she was about to see. “Draco, where are we?”

“Sh,” he hushed her quietly, motioning for her to follow him around the stalls. Soft gasping sounds filled the room.

“It’s too late,” someone was crying.

“They turned the corner to see a figure clutching the sink, head bowed, babbling hysterically. The ghost of a girl, who Ginny recognized with a shiver as Moaning Myrtle, bobbed helplessly beside the boy, crooning as he cried.

“Surely you can find a way to fix it?” Myrtle said.

“No,” the boy insisted, “I can’t.” He raised his head slightly, and Ginny caught sight of his white blond hair and gasped. She turned to the Draco standing beside her, and he nodded grimly.

The younger Draco gasped into the sink, choking and sputtering on his tears. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wand for a moment, fingering it.

“Don’t,” pleaded Myrtle, twisting her transparent hands in agitation. She swooped into her stall and perched on the toilet. “Don’t…tell me what’s wrong…I can help you…”

“No one can help me,” the younger Draco said bitterly. He shoved the wand back into his pocket. His whole body shook visibly, and Ginny saw the elder Draco tensing beside her, his hands balled up at his sides. “I can’t do it…I can’t…It won’t work…and unless I do it soon…he says he’ll kill me…”

He gave a great shudder, choking on his own tears, and looked up in the mirror. Ginny felt her heart stop as the younger Draco’s eyes widened, and he whirled around with his wand drawn. Her heart clenched painfully at the sight of Harry standing in the doorway, wand also raised, and realized that this was the day that Harry had cursed Draco. This was that day.

Ginny gasped and reached for Draco’s arm without thinking. His younger self’s hex missed Harry and smashed the lamp on the wall, sending glass raining down on the bathroom floor. Draco was shaking beneath her fingers, his whole body trembling so hard that she wondered if he had even noticed her touch.

Myrtle was screaming for them to stop as curses bounced off the walls and shattered the sinks. Water was spurting from the exposed pipes, rushing across the floor and over their shoes. Harry slipped and fell to the floor, and the younger Draco stepped forward with his wand drawn.

“Cruci-”

“Sectumsempra!” Harry cried, brandishing his wand desperately.

The curse slashed across the younger Draco’s face and chest, spilling blood across the flooded floor. His pale skin went completely white as he staggered and then fell to the floor, his wand clattering from his hand, and everything went black.

The scene was changing, Ginny realized, her hand still on Draco’s arm, but she found she couldn’t focus on it. She remembered that night in the common room, when she had so quickly taken Harry’s side, snapping at Hermione for questioning the spell, and dismissing any thought that Draco could have been seriously injured. Never had she bothered to think about the spell Harry had cast, to think that his judgment might not have always been as perfect as she had thought. How could she have been so blind? How could she have been so stupid?

She shook her head slightly and the new scene came into sharp focus. Draco stepped from her, looking away from the scene, but Ginny felt her eyes widen as they adjusted to the dimmed light.

Voldemort was sitting in a high-backed chair in front of a fireplace, where a crackling fire provided the only source of light in the whole room. His red eyes shown brightly, reflecting the dancing flames, and Ginny gave a violent shudder as he seemed to stare right at her.

“Bring them in,” Voldemort hissed. A tall man in a long dark cloak nodded curtly and opened the door along the right wall, his footsteps echoing down the corridor as he went to fetch those Voldemort sought.

“Are you eager to see your parents, Draco?” asked the cold, high voice again.

Ginny started and looked around to see a tall, thin figure standing in the corner. He stumbled nervously at Voldemort’s voice, but nodded slightly.

“What did you say?” Voldemort said harshly.

“I s-said, yes, my Lord,” Draco stuttered.

“Come here, young Malfoy,” Voldemort said icily.

Ginny watched helplessly as the younger Draco walked across the room. She looked back to see his elder self pressed up against the wall, watching in horror.

“You failed me this year, as I am sure you are aware,” Voldemort whispered, reaching out to touch Draco’s face with a long, white finger. The boy tensed. “Oh yes. And certainly you remember last summer, when I told you that if you failed, you would not live to see you parents again, do you not?”

“Yes, my Lord,” Draco replied in a quivering murmur.

“Indeed.”

Ginny’s breath caught as Voldemort drew his wand from his sleeve.

The door swung open; the tall man had returned. “My Lord,” he said.

“Very well.”

The man stepped inside the room, and two others followed him. The younger Draco’s eyes widened at the sight of his parents. Ginny hardly recognized Lucius, whose long blond hair was matted and streaked with white. He was stooped slightly, but when the firelight caught his face, she saw that his skin was waxy and yellow.

Narcissa, in contrast, stood tall and prim, her long hair glowing white in the firelight. She gave a little shriek at the sight of Draco, and Voldemort laughed at this, seemingly amused.

“Surprised to see your son alive, Narcissa?”

Ginny backed against the wall, next to Draco, and clutched his arm. He blanched at Voldemort’s comment, and turned his gaze away from his mother.

“I am eternally grateful to see him alive, my Lord,” Narcissa said quietly. Lucius shot her a look of contempt.

“Your son failed me, to be certain, Lucius. For that he should be killed. Others have surely died for less.” Voldemort laughed mirthlessly. “It would appear that he is a little hesitant to use his wand, and I thought we might instruct him. Come here, Draco.”

Shaking again, the younger Draco stepped forward, and Ginny knew that whatever was coming was certain to be horrific, for the Draco beside her was biting his lip so hard that blood had begun to trickle from the corner of his mouth.

“Imperio!” Voldemort called out, and the younger Draco’s body relaxed visibly.

He turned around; his body was light and moved through the air as if he were floating, and it was in this manner that he raised his wand.

“C-Crucio,” he said, and his face twitched slightly as the spell came out in a burst of light. Narcissa fell to the floor, screaming and screaming, rolling around and jerking at Lucius’s feet, who stared ahead impassively.

Voldemort was laughing, and the elder Draco sank to the floor, pulling Ginny with him, his face contorted in sobs, crying against her shoulder.

“That’s it, Draco,” Voldemort said amusedly. “That’s not so difficult, is it?”

Narcissa’s screams were fading now, and the room was dissolving as Ginny rubbed her hand up and down Draco’s back as he cried.

Ginny blinked, and when she opened her eyes again, there was a great deal more chatter. She squinted, as the brightness of the Great Hall was so very different than the dimness of Malfoy Manor.

She and Draco stood, but she took his sweaty, shaking hand in her own as she looked around. She smiled slightly as she saw a much younger Ginny sitting by her mother at one of the long tables with her head on Molly’s shoulder. Molly rubbed the girl’s shoulder, and tears came to Ginny’s eyes. Things had been simpler back then. Maybe they had made them too simple, thinking that they’d banished everything that was evil in the world when Voldemort died. But there is good and evil in everyone. Those who were pure and good in the times of war now spit on Draco as he walked the streets. There had always been more to the story, but Ginny had never wanted to see that until now. She missed having the line in the sand that told her what was right and what was wrong. She missed her mother, too.

The whole Great Hall was jubilant; there was laughter and relief and reunion. Ginny couldn’t help but smile at the undeniable energy that crowded the room.

But then she looked back at Draco and saw that he was focused not on the exuberance all around them, but on the three Malfoys clustered close together on one of the benches. They looked distinctly out of place.

Draco was leaning against his mother while she and Lucius talked in rapid whispers. As she leaned closer to catch what they were saying, Ginny felt Draco’s hand clench around her own.

“These idiot wizards. Celebrating at the defeat of our kind,” Lucius hissed in outrage, leaning back on the bench away from his wife and son.

“Not now, Lucius,” Narcissa replied coldly. She smoothed her son’s hair down, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“They are such fools. They think everything will be better now, because the Muggles can rise up and eliminate us? I can’t believe…”

“Lucius, not now.”

“Narcissa, you seem unruffled at the fall of our Lord. Explain how this could be.”

“I am happy to see Draco alive, Lucius,” Narcissa whispered furiously. “I wanted to get through this war with our family intact. I don’t really give a shit about who won this goddamn war.”

Lucius looked like she had slapped him in the face. Draco was still leaning against his mother’s shoulder, his eyes closed, no doubt pretending to be close to sleep.

“I don’t really give a shit about Draco, Narcissa,” Lucius returned coldly. “The boy failed our Lord more than once, and-”

“As did you, Lucius.”

Lucius’s face was ashen now, and a vein in his forehead was throbbing. “We’re leaving. Wake the boy. Let’s go.”

Narcissa sighed but shook Draco gently, and the three of them rose from the bench and swept out of the Great Hall.

Ginny’s heart was either pounding so fast that she couldn’t feel it or it had stopped altogether. That day was supposed to have been glorious. It had been everything her family had fought for. Yet it had destroyed the Malfoys, ripping them apart. For Lucius to speak that way about Draco…

Ginny couldn’t see the happy families now. Her vision was blurred by a thick sheen of tears, and she looked up at Draco and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her face into the crook of his neck.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

He nodded, but took hold of her arms and pushed her away. “We’re not through yet,” he said hoarsely.

She looked up, and the scene was changing again. As everything whirled, Ginny caught flashes of Draco and his father in Diagon Alley, being sneered at. One witch even threw a piece of fruit at Lucius. There were sights of Lucius smacking Draco once they got home from these outings, and of him doing the same to Narcissa.

The memories finally settled and a new scene came into clear view. A young, tired looking Draco was sitting on a bed in a room that was obviously his. Falcons’ posters decorated the walls, as well as pictures from his earlier Hogwarts days.

His mother was standing at the end of his bed, looking down at him. Her expression was very worried, and her thin face was pale and drawn.

“Draco, dear, just stay up here today. Don’t go near the office, or the library, or our room,” Narcissa said in a pleading tone.

“Mum, I’m not going to avoid him,” Draco said angrily, staring down at his comforter.

“Your father is just under a lot of stress right now, Draco. He has his trial hearing tomorrow. Just promise me you’ll stay out of his way.” She leaned forward and kissed his forehead before smiling tiredly and leaving his room. The younger Draco lay back on his bed and punched his pillow angrily.

Ginny reached for Draco’s hand again and he let her take it this time. His fingers felt cold and dead against her own as the colors blurred together once more and the scene changed.

It was the same room, but night had fallen and shadows crept along the wall. The young Draco was still lying on his bed, one arm raised behind his head, his eyes heavy and half-closed. He gripped his wand loosely.

Faint voices could be heard downstairs. Draco’s hand tightened around Ginny’s, and she looked up to see that his face was crumpled in misery, and tears were lurking from the corners of his eyes.

The voices exploded from downstairs.

“You told him what?”

The younger Draco cringed, sitting up suddenly, the wand grasped tightly in his hand.

“I told him the boy was dead, Lucius. For Draco.”

Draco jumped to his feet at an echoing slap, running down the hall to the top of the staircase. Ginny ran after him, nearly dragging the elder Draco with her. There was a thud, and Ginny guessed that Narcissa had fallen to the floor.

“We were this close, Narcissa!” Lucius bellowed, his white hair wild and his face a deepening purple. “Another two hours and the castle would have been ours!”

Narcissa moaned from the floor. “But our son would have been dead!” she snarled, her eyes slit in anger.

Lucius’ boot collided with her side, and Ginny gasped from where they watched at the top of the stairs behind the younger Draco.

“Potter was lying there, unconscious, at the Dark Lord’s mercy, and you lied to him? It would have been over. We would have been proclaimed heroes, at the head of the Wizarding World. Now all we are is trash! Worse than the fucking Muggles, Narcissa!”

He kicked her again and pulled his wand out. The younger Draco gripped his wand tightly, shaking visibly and clearly torn. His knuckles turned whiter with each passing second.

Lucius flicked his wand and blood spurted from her body, spilling everywhere, matted in her long, tangled hair. The younger Draco leapt forward, running down the stairs as his elder self turned his head away, unable to watch.

“Avada Kedavra,” Lucius cried, and in a flash of green, Narcissa’s screaming stopped.

The younger Draco let out a cry like a wounded animal and charged his father, his wand outstretched and pointed. The boy was not shaking now. He was completely still in a calm sort of rage. The elder Draco was shaking violently, and refused to look at his younger counterpart, who was staring at his father with unrivaled hatred. Ginny had to fight off a bout of nausea as she suddenly understood how this scene would end.

“What do you think you’re going to do, Draco?” Lucius panted, a twisted smile on his face. “You couldn’t even kill the fallen Dumbledore. You expect me to believe that you could kill your own father?”

Ginny didn’t hear him say it, but she could practically feel the spell radiating from the younger Draco’s very core, and in a second flash of green, Lucius was cold and dead on the floor with his wife, and everything went black.

Author’s Note: All right, it’s a short chapter. But it came along much much faster than what you’ve been used to lately, so I’m okay with it. Thanks to all of you who rushed back at my return, your reviews helped me through this chapter and definitely reminded me of why I love doing this so much. Thanks so much to Embellished, my lovely beta, who came back for me and my writing after my long break, and definitely helped me struggle through this chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter 18: The Mourning After

In that very last instant, everything dissolved and turned to blackness, and Draco could feel Ginny and himself rising up through the air. There was a moment that stretched on for an eternity where they seemed to be floating, but then they were flat on their feet in the blinding brightness of his study.

Draco stumbled away from Ginny and into his chair. He covered his face with his shaking hands, overwhelmed by the pounding of his heart and the roaring in his ears.

The weight of his mistake was falling on him completely, crushing his head and his heart and his very soul. How she must see him now. She had seen him torture his mother and murder his father in cold blood. She had seen him draw his wand on Potter first. She had seen him sob over his broken family and fallen mother. She had seen him at his lowest. Oh, she must hate him. Not only had he driven out her sons and pushed her away, but now she saw him for the coward and fool and cold-hearted murderer that he was. It was over.

God, it was all over. His head was spinning. His lungs were screaming; he couldn’t breathe.

“Draco?”

Her voice sounded very far away. He could feel tears streaming down his face in rivulets. They tasted salty and bitter as he licked his cracked lips. He sank lower into himself, and the world was fading. He could barely hear her anymore.

“Draco, listen to me!”

“No,” he whispered. “Don’t. Stay away. You don’t…”

But she wasn’t listening. She was hovering right over him, whispering soothing words that he couldn’t hear. She was right up against him, so close that he could feel her warmth. She needed to get away from him. He couldn’t take watching her face crumple in horror and realization over what he had done…or who he was.

Everything was spinning, faster and faster until he couldn’t see anything but a giant blur. Ginny’s face swam across the blur for a moment, and then he couldn’t remember anything at all.

***

He cracked one eye open, but shut it quickly, groaning softly at the consuming brightness beyond his eyelids. His head thudded dully, and after a moment of merciful nothingness, the mass of what had happened fell back into his mind. Panic started to swell in his chest again as he rolled onto his elbow, his eyes still shut tightly. He heard gentle movement in response to his groan, and there was suddenly a weight beside him in the bed.

“Drink this,” Ginny commanded, pushing a glass to his lips. He obeyed without thinking, sucking in the liquid greedily. He coughed and sputtered as it burned his throat on the way down, and Ginny smiled at him grimly.

“What-?”

But she had raised her wand, jabbing it at him, and his voice was cut off instantly.

“I’m going to talk for now, all right, Draco? And you’re just going to listen.”

Her brown eyes flashed dangerously, and Draco’s heart sank. She was leaving. She would leave and take Lily with her, and he would never see either of them again. How could he have been so stupid as to think that showing her his past would actually make things better?

He tore his eyes from her intense gaze, burying his face in the pillows, but Ginny took his face in between her hands and forced him to look back at her.

“I want you to listen to me,” she said in firm but dulcet tones. “I love you. I will always love you. I don’t care that you killed your father; the sick bastard deserved it. I love you. Lily loves you. Scorpius loves you. We are not going anywhere.”

His eyes widened at that, not daring to believe the words that had just slipped from her mouth. He didn’t think he could bear it if he had imagined them, or if he was dreaming, or if she hadn’t really meant to say them.

He couldn’t believe her. He couldn’t comprehend that those words might be true – that love so unconditional could truly exist, much less exist in his life.

He shook his head back and forth mutely, pushing her hands away from his face, his eyes clouding over. She forced him back down, pressing her cool hands to his cheeks again.

“Did you hear me?” she asked calmly. “I love you. I’m staying right here. I’m not going anywhere. We are working through all of this together. Together. The both of us.”

She said each word with carefully crafted deliberation, massaging his temples with her thumbs. He couldn’t hope to dream that she spoke the truth. He wanted to, he really did, but she felt so far away. Even though she was right there beside him, he felt as if there was infinite space between them.

But she leaned down then and kissed him, laying her body flat against his, her fingers playing at the nape of his neck. He lay still for a moment, not trusting his senses. For a moment of eternity, he felt as if he were floating in nothingness and couldn’t feel anything. But her kisses seared into him, awakening in him everything that was once dead, and he had never felt so alive.

***

He awoke again, he didn’t know how many hours later, with Ginny curled up against him, her arm draped across his chest. He heaved a sigh of heavy contentment and shifted so that Ginny nuzzled closer against him.

Her red hair was fanned out across the both of them, and Draco stared at it for several minutes, watching as the evening sunlight pouring through the window reflected across the strands of red and gold.

She was so beautiful, so perfect. Like a fire spreading good and light all through him. She had seen everything now, and she was still there, curled up beside him. He hadn’t done anything to deserve her, and yet she was still there.

He loved everything about her, but what struck him was the fact that she loved all of him. She had seen all of his flaws, and it felt as if she had crawled beneath his very skin and seen the jumbled mess inside, only to decide that she still wanted to be in his life.

He ran his hand up the curve of her neck, tangling his fingers in her hair. He felt as if his chest were bursting with something, a total and complete awe that she could feel love him as deeply and unconditionally as he loved her.

Ginny shifted, rolling so that she was lying on her side, her camisole tightening around her waist a little as she did. Draco furrowed his brow, staring at Ginny’s abdomen. She moved again, and he could have sworn that he saw the slightest swell in her stomach.

He slid a hand down to her stomach, thinking about the day he had found her nauseous in the bathroom. He felt as if there had been something unsaid at the hospital too, but his blind rage at her son and fear for Scorpius’s health had led him to dismiss it.

Could she be…? Was it even possible? Is Ginny pregnant?

He couldn’t imagine that she was, but everything seemed to add up to that. Draco frowned, considering how he had missed out on both Lily and Scorpius’s childhoods, never seeing their firsts and only collecting fragments of their early lives. What a change it would be to be there for everything. To see a child – his own child – take its first steps and say its first words, and to be there to watch it grow from infancy. He recalled Ginny describing how lively Lily had been as a small child, and he sighed, breathing deeply, and thought how much he wanted that.

But what if he weren’t any good at it? Sure, he could be Lily and Scorpius’s Dad once they were old enough to do things on their own, but what if he were shit at the child raising thing? What if his father reared from within him, leaving him cold and indifferent toward his child?

That could never happen. You love Lily and Scorpius. You could never be that way to something that was a part of you and Ginny.

Draco groaned softly. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself. He didn’t even know if Ginny was pregnant. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her stomach, seeing if he could feel something beneath the slightest of bulges.

Ginny stirred slightly, her eyelashes fluttering daintily as she opened her eyes. They widened for a second as they focused on Draco, her melted chocolate eyes burning into his. He felt in that instant, as she stared at him, that he knew, and then she looked down to her stomach, where his hand lay. Her eyebrows knitted together, the tiniest of frowns at her lips, as a bubble of hope threatened to consume his heart.

“I am,” she whispered.

Author’s Note: To those of you reading this chapter, let me just say I am honored. If you are a reader who enjoyed this story two years ago and have now picked it up again to see where it went, bless you. I'm sorry for making you wait so long. If you are someone who just picked up this story in the most recent list and read through the eighteen chapters before this, thank you, and welcome. Thank you to Embellished for taking me back like my hiatus had never happened, and thank you to Alexsandra who is always there when I need here. And to end the wait:

Chapter 19: Break Even

Ginny’s eyes widened as the words slipped from her mouth. In her grogginess, it had seemed like the perfect moment to tell Draco, as he was tenderly touching her stomach as if he just knew.

His eyes widened as hers bored into them, waiting for a response.

“What was she like as a baby?”

Oh, please, she thought, just let it be okay.

“You’re…you’re…” he stuttered, his face still unreadable to her.

“Pregnant,” she finished, hanging on his every breath.

The longer he took to say something, the more she realized how inopportune her timing was. He had finally, after months of silence and sulking and scotch, revealed the demons that haunted him. Ginny would be lying to herself if she said the truth had not shaken her—he had showed her things that she hadn’t really thought about in decades. Yes, Fred flashed through her mind every day, but the horrors of the war had not been present with her constantly as they had been with him.

And now that she had finally revealed this news of a baby to him, she was hit full force by all the insecurities she had been struggling with since she herself had found out. She had spent weeks letting them eat at her insides until she felt her anxious secret would just simply burst from her.

It had only been a few seconds, but it felt like hours to her before his face split into the brightest smile she had ever seen from him.

“Gin…” he whispered, drawing her to him in a fierce hug on the bed. His voice was completely breathless, like she had knocked all the air from his lungs. “A baby…That’s amazing.”

She could feel his heart pounding rapidly as he embraced her, and tears welled up in her eyes. His hand still rested on her stomach, squeezed between their hug.

And in that moment she knew: this child would be exactly what they needed. It was equally Malfoy and Weasley, and he or she would be raised that way. She could picture Draco holding his child as he never had with Lily, teaching him or her how to talk or read or ride a broom. When the baby was born, all four siblings, never mind their surname, would hold him or her. Their baby would be raised just as much James’s sibling as Scorpius’s—loved by both sides from the start.

This baby meant hope for her family. It might be messy and dysfunctional and completely insane, but now they had a chance to be a whole family.

***

The rest of the summer passed in a blur for Ginny. She and Lily went to Harry’s on Fridays to pick up James and Albus and take them out for the afternoon. She used her old contacts to get box seats at a Quidditch match one weekend and took them to the park for a picnic the next, always trying to find things she knew they loved.

James still seemed shaken by the incident with Scorpius; he was never anything less than polite to her or Lily. Toward the end of July, when the four of them were in Diagon Alley licking their dripping ice cream cones, he tentatively asked, “Is Scorpius doing all right?”

Before Ginny could answer, Lily put her hand on her brother’s shoulder and grinned. “He’s doing great.”

James nodded, blowing out a shaky breath. Ginny reached over and ruffled his hair, pride swelling in her chest.

She knew, as they moved into August, that she needed to tell her children about her pregnancy. She had passed the four-month mark, and it was becoming impossible to hide her distinctly rounded stomach beneath flowing sundresses.

“Can we tell them, please?” Draco begged one night before bed, tugging his shirt over his head.

Ginny laughed softly. She knew how hard it had been for him to keep the baby a secret from Lily and Scorpius. She had never seen Draco so happy. At night they would crawl into bed together and he would pull her close and tell her everything he wanted to do with their baby. His eyes would light up when he talked about going to buy the child’s first broomstick or how he thought they should read to him or her at night. Ginny thought that he was even more excited about this possibility of family than she was.

She pulled a brush through her hair and shook her head at him. “Not yet.”

He slid between the sheets and shot her a pouting look.

“What are you waiting for?” he whined.

She sighed, plopping down on the bed beside him. She knew before she told the children she had to tell Harry. It was the right thing to do; she couldn’t even imagine the backlash if he heard the news from the kids. When she had first told Harry about Draco on that night she got back from Prague, he had reacted in a manner Ginny would have never thought possible of him. His blind rage had stuck a toe over the line into violence, and more than anything, she feared that happening again. Who would pay the price if she didn’t handle this maturely? Her sons? Was it possible that Harry could let his anger possess him so much that he would somehow harm their children? Or would he turn James and Albus against their new sibling? Ginny didn’t know.

She looked up at Draco, her fingers playing nervously with the hem of her camisole, and tried to find the right words to tell him that. She knew how much he resented Harry’s presence in their lives, and she didn’t want to rub that in his face—especially not now, after nearly two months of uninterrupted happiness.

“I…I just think that maybe…” she stalled, and she knew her hesitance was not doing her any favors. It only made this look like a bigger deal than it was. “I think that before I tell the kids I should tell Harry.”

Predictably, his face hardened slightly. He turned away for a moment, trying to hide it, but she had seen the bitterness before he could recover. She reached out and put her hand on his chest.

“Draco, he needs to hear it from me,” Ginny told him softly. “That is the mature, adult way to handle this. Imagine if Albus and James came home one day and just told him.”

He closed his eyes and breathed hard through his nose, but she could tell he knew she was right. Ginny laid her head down on his chest, took his hand, and placed in on her stomach.

“This is how our baby deserves to come into the world,” she whispered against his skin. She believed that, she really did. Maybe some part of her was being dramatic, her fears ramped up by hormones, but this is what she felt she had to do.

He nodded slightly and kissed the top of her head, and she knew that was the best she would get out of him tonight. She would tell Harry, and then they would share the news with their family.

***

The house, Ginny remembered, was especially beautiful in the summer. Hydrangeas bloomed all around the porch, and the large elm cast the home in forgiving shadow. She looked up and counted windows from the right; the third was where she used to sleep. For fifteen years, it had been where she slept—where they slept.

Shaking herself slightly, Ginny took a deep breath and started to climb up the steps of the porch. It was unnerving to walk into a place to which you didn’t belong but that had been home for so long.

She paused just before the door, running through her thoughts once more before knocking. She had scheduled this meeting of sorts three days prior, making sure the boys would be at Ron and Hermione’s with their cousins so they wouldn’t witness any ugliness between their parents. She didn’t plan to stay long.

Just tell him, deal with his reaction, and leave. She repeated the plan to herself twice more. She hoped his reaction was not as terrible as she had dealt with in the past. A small part of her wished she had brought along Draco for that reason, but she knew that would have only made things worse.

Her dress was a little snug across her stomach, unlike the looser ones she’d taken to wearing lately. There was just a hint of pregnancy in her appearance, enough that he could suspect just before she told him.

Her fist was knocking on the door before she could stop it. The door swung open almost immediately to a face she recognized but didn’t expect.

“Susan?” Ginny stammered.

Susan Bones stood in the doorway of her old home, smiling politely, but Ginny caught a smug edge to the way the other woman was looking at her.

“Hullo, Ginny,” she turned, holding the door open a little wider. “Come in.”

She stood there, frozen for a second, not even registering what the other woman had said. What was Susan Bones doing at her house? Well, her old house. Especially when she had taken steps to make sure just she and Harry would be involved in this conversation.

Susan cleared her throat, and Ginny’s mind snapped back into focus. She gave Susan a wavering smile and stepped over the threshold. She tried not to notice that Susan’s gaze lingered at her midsection.

The other woman looked good for their age. Of course, Ginny reminded herself, she did too when she wasn’t pregnant. But Susan was tall and lean, her skin golden from the summer sun, and her sleek brown hair was cropped chicly around her face.

“Harry?” Susan called sweetly, leading Ginny into the kitchen. “Ginny’s here.”

“Be right down!” he shouted from the bathroom at the top of the stairs. It was unsettling that she knew exactly which room he was in from the sound of his voice.

“You look…well,” Susan said, still wearing that overly polite smile.

Ginny nodded. “You too,” she managed to get out.

“Lemonade?” Susan asked, reaching for the pitcher on the table—the etched one Ginny had picked out three years before.

Ginny swallowed roughly, only able to shake her head. She leaned back against the kitchen counter, staring fixedly at the doorway, willing Harry to come down and relieve her of this awkwardness.

She couldn’t imagine what Susan was doing here. Were she and Harry friends? She knew he was seeing someone, but Susan had gotten married to a Muggle only a few years out of Hogwarts. Was she here often? Did she spend time with Ginny’s sons?

Ginny’s mouth was dry and it was getting hard to swallow. Her cheeks were starting to burn, and there was a bitter, metallic taste she wished she could get rid of, but she couldn’t very well ask for lemonade now.

“Ginny.”

Her eyes snapped up at the sound of his voice, short and hard. He wasn’t looking her up and down, as Susan had, but right in the face with a gaze so intense it made her shiver internally.

“Hello, Harry,” she replied, lifting her chin as Lily would in such a situation.

At first glance, he looked casual. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of Muggle jeans, and he wore a faded green t-shirt. But she could see every thought and insecurity he had about this meeting nestled into his appearance, just as she had for the last twenty years.

There was a little water sprinkled across his shirt, and she knew that meant he had splashed his face in the sink before coming down, which he was prone to do when he got anxious.

The shirt was one she used to sleep in, and she knew he had chosen it deliberately, probably after trying on others she had bought for him. And he was barefoot, which he knew she loved.

In three seconds she saw right through his front, and somehow, that settled her nerves.

“Did you want some lemonade?” he asked, shoving his hand through his hair.

“I would love some,” Ginny said clearly, pulling a chair out and taking a seat at the table. Susan shot her a dirty look.

Harry poured her a glass and sat down across from her, folding his hands in front of him on the table. Susan slid a hand over his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Ginny tried hard not to narrow her eyes.

Harry cleared his throat. “Er…Susan? Would you mind, um, going into the backyard for a little bit?”

Susan wrinkled her nose for a moment but recovered quickly. “Sure,” she complied, rubbing his shoulder before slipping out the backdoor.

The silence that fell in her absence was thick and heavy, filled with memories and things unsaid. Ginny took another sip of her lemonade, waiting for him to say something, but he was staring determinedly at the table, tracing circles with his finger.

“So what did you want to talk about?” he asked, still not looking up at her.

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him. “Well, what’s Susan doing here?”

His eyes darted up at the mention of Susan. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck, and made a little grimace. She wondered if he had really thought she wouldn’t ask.

“You look good Gin,” he said finally, the words coming out on the breath of a sigh. When she didn’t say anything, he leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table in a nervous gesture again. “Susan’s the woman I’m seeing.”

Ginny sucked in her lower lip and gave him a hard look. “Isn’t she married?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That never stopped you,” he snapped.

Anger welled in her so rapidly it bubbled into rage, and she moved to stand up and smack him right across his self-righteous face. How dare he? Did he bring this married woman into his home simply to get back at her? He had exposed their children to adultery and pettiness simply in the name of revenge. She opened her mouth to spew all of this at him, but he held up a hand to stop her.

“I’m sorry,” he stated evenly. “That was uncalled for. Truthfully, no, Ginny, she’s not married. She left her husband about a year and a half ago.”

He looked so dejected at the mention of a woman leaving her husband, Ginny couldn’t help but wind down. She was in no position to call Susan an adulterer, even if she was one, all things considered. She nodded at him grudgingly.

“And she’s never around when the boys are,” he added quickly. He sounded almost eager, like he wanted her approval, and it made Ginny’s heart ache a little. “I want things to be serious when I introduce them to someone.”

“That’s good, Harry,” she replied softly. He nodded, suddenly looking exhausted. She felt so old in that moment, reflecting on how she was pregnant with her fourth child, working at her second marriage, and talking about his current girlfriend with a boy she had once loved with a force so strong it made her head spin.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Ginny thought maybe he was reflecting on their lives too. Even though they weren’t even forty yet, it felt like they had lived enough to fill a dozen lifetimes. Their Hogwarts years seemed like someone else’s life entirely.

Harry cleared his throat, breaking Ginny from reminiscing. “So…um…what are you doing here?”

Ginny drained the remainder of her lemonade and stood up. She gripped the back of her chair and looked at Harry plainly. There is no easy way to tell him this. Just get it out.

“I’m pregnant, Harry.”

His eyes widened, immediately falling to her stomach.

She gripped the chair more tightly to keep herself from touching her bulge self-consciously. He opened his mouth to say something but snapped it shut again almost immediately.

When he didn’t look like he was going to say anything, Ginny continued, “The kids don’t know yet, not even Lily. I wanted you to hear it from me.”

He finally tore his gaze away and took to staring at the table, breathing hard through his nose. “When are you due?” he asked, and Ginny winced, hearing the bitter edge to his softly uttered words.

“January.”

He blew out a sigh shaking with unexpressed emotion and brought his hands to his face. Ginny had the urge to take a step backward, fearing his reaction.

He finally pulled his hands down from his face, rubbing vigorously under his eyes for a moment, and directed his words at the table. “Ginny, I am appreciative you came to tell me. I would love to say that I’m happy for you right now.”

Each of his words were slow and deliberate, grasping on to the last shreds of control he had. There was a long pause, and when he finally looked up at her, his eyes were glazed and burning green.

“But I lost a daughter this year. So right now I just can’t see the silver lining to your news.”

Author’s Note: I probably should have mentioned this two weeks ago, but this is the final chapter. Before the epilogue, that is. Let me just say that the response was amazing; you all are amazing. I hope this chapter is just as well received, and that many of you take the time to leave me your thoughts before I sit down and pen the epilogue. Thank you to Embellished, who squeezes me into her hectic life graciously. I hope you all have enjoyed Draco and Ginny’s story.

Chapter 20: Clear the Wreckage

“So we can tell them?”

Draco blurted the words out before he could stop himself. In the past two months he had exercised more self-control than he had ever thought possible. He could picture how excited Lily and Scorpius would be at the idea of a little brother or sister, and more than anything he wanted to share the joy he had been feeling all summer with them.

Ginny sighed, unzipping her dress and letting it fall to the floor. There was a tired sadness about her face, and Draco instantly regretted not being more sensitive.

“I’m sorry, Gin,” he said quickly.

“No, no, it’s all right,” she replied, sliding a fallen strap of her slip up her shoulder. He marveled at how quickly her body was changing. The swell of her stomach was prominent now—beneath something as formfitting as her slip, her pregnancy was blatantly obvious.

“We can tell them. We should tell them, I’m surprised they haven’t guessed already.” She laughed humorlessly, gesturing at her stomach.

“You’re sure he didn’t do anything to you?” Draco asked sharply. “He didn’t touch you?”

“No,” Ginny replied emphatically. “He was really fine. I think he’s just sad. I wouldn’t be surprised if he married Susan to stick something to us.”

Draco couldn’t help but feel that that wouldn’t be so bad—maybe then Potter’s presence in their lives wouldn’t be so pressing—but he knew Ginny wouldn’t see it that way so he kept his mouth shut.

He sat on the bed and looked at her hopefully. She turned her head and caught a glance of him and laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Yes, we can tell them,” she said, still laughing as she kissed his forehead. “Tomorrow morning at breakfast? Then Lily and I can tell James and Albus when we see them Friday. And they’ll all know before the boys go off to school next week.”

Draco grinned and launched himself onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow. His nightmares had been much fewer in the past two months—sleep came much easier now. But he knew tonight the anticipation of breakfast would keep him from sleeping at all.

Ginny slept beside him peacefully, lying on her side, cradling her belly. As he lay there awake, he couldn’t help but roll over onto his arm to look at her every few seconds. She was beautiful—just as beautiful as she had been ten years ago, sleeping in his bed in Paris.

He rose before the sun was up, showered, dressed and sat on the bed, foot jiggling against the floor as he waited for an hour appropriate enough to wake his family.

My family. Merlin, a year ago I had no one. The thought shook him a little. Twelve months ago he had been utterly alone with nothing to his name except a successful bar in Prague and a son he got to see once a year. Now he had a wife and two children who all lived under one roof, and a baby on the way. A child that he would get to name and raise and be a part of every milestone there was to come. It seemed surreal, even now, months later.

When the sun finally started to trickle into the room and creep across the bed, Ginny opened her eyes blearily and smirked at Draco.

“How long have you been dressed?”

“Not that long,” he insisted, standing up. “Come on, get dressed. I’m going to go make breakfast.”

“Ugh, just let me throw my robe on. We can tell them before breakfast. You look like you’re going to piss yourself,” she said irritably.

Draco huffed at her but went to wake Lily and Scorpius, who were even more distressed at the early hour. They both stumbled downstairs with mussed hair and rumpled pajamas.

“Dad, it’s early,” Scorpius whined, lowering his head to the table. “Why are we up so early?”

Lily gurgled something that might have been words from beside her brother.

“Your mother and I have something to tell you,” Draco told them, his voice wavering from trying to keep the excitement out of it.

“Well, where is she?” Lily murmured, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m here, I’m here.” Draco turned to see her walking into the kitchen, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and her face glowing. The thin cotton shirt she was wearing was stretched across her stomach, and Draco saw that she had no intention of hiding this anymore.

Lily and Scorpius were both staring at her, clearly not half-asleep any longer.

“Mum?” Lily said uncertainly.

“Draco, did you want to tell them?” Ginny said, smiling graciously.

“You lot are going to have a little brother or sister in a few months,” Draco revealed, and he felt instantly lighter as the words came out.

Lily squealed, jumping up from her seat to give Ginny a hug. Scorpius chuckled in his seat. “Oh great, another redhead to deal with,” he said—but he was beaming widely.

“Oh, come here, you,” Ginny giggled, hugging Lily tightly. Scorpius grinned as she pulled him into the hug. Draco couldn’t help but hang back and stare at them, the three—well, four, really—people he loved most in the entire world, locked in an embrace. Ginny looked up and caught his gaze from between the tangle of arms, and in an instant, Draco was wrapped up in the hug as well.

***

Saying goodbye to Scorpius turned out to be easier the second time around, especially with Ginny and Lily at his side. Cecilia kissed Scorpius goodbye further down the platform, oddly without a twenty-something boy on her arm.

“You’ll be gigantic the next time I see you,” Scorpius told Ginny, hugging her gently.

She gently smacked the back of his head and made a face. “Have a good term,” she said, smiling. “Don’t get into too much trouble!”

He winked at them as he climbed onto the train. “No promises.”

As he watched the train pull out, Draco couldn’t help but imagine sending Lily off along with Scorpius next year, and his heart wrenched a little.

The house was quieter without Scorpius, but things certainly didn’t slow down. Within two days of his departure, Lily and Ginny had started turning one of the spare bedrooms into a nursery. Draco went in every once in a while to laugh as they argued over paints and rocking chairs and stuffed animals. Occasionally one of them would ask his opinion to be the deciding factor in their argument, but he would just laugh and shake his head. He knew better than to give his opinion.

There were appointments at St. Mungo’s that filled him with both excitement and dread. Every visit taught him something new about their unborn child, but there was still the looming worry that something might go wrong.

Ginny seemed to move through the pregnancy with beauty and grace. If she was nervous about anything at all, she didn’t let it show. Perhaps to her it all felt routine, carrying her fourth child, but Draco couldn’t help but jump every time the baby kicked. Anxiety and elation and emotions he couldn’t even label welled in him as Ginny passed the six-month mark, and suddenly January didn’t seem so far away.

“Gin, we’re never going to agree on two names,” Draco sighed one afternoon after hours of looking through baby books.

“We’re not finding out the sex of the baby,” Ginny said firmly, swallowing a spoonful of her huge banana split.

They had just returned from her monthly appointment, and Draco found himself breathing easier. The Mediwitch had informed them that the baby was completely healthy and the right size. She had also said that Ginny was only pregnant with one baby, a fact that Draco noted with relief considering twins ran in the Weasley clan.

“But then we’d only have to decide on one name,” Draco whined, eying her ice cream with amazement. She was getting quite big frankly, which suited Draco just fine. He knew better than to ever let on that he was noticing her weight gain, however. Ginny had been getting more hormonal lately, and Draco did his best not to upset her—Ginny was fairly reactive even when she wasn’t incredibly emotional.

“We can’t even do that, considering your obsession with astronomy!” Ginny huffed.

“It’s a family tradition,” Draco grumbled in return.

“There are quite a few Malfoy traditions I don’t intend on upholding, thank you,” Ginny replied wryly.

Draco bit his tongue to keep from replying. Ginny had gone back to her sundae, and he took a deep breath before saying calmly, “There are some normal names. Leo isn’t so bad. Or Vela, for a girl. We could call her Ela.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Yes, but why only have a list of bizarre names to choose from when we could name our child anything?”

“Well, how about you pick one name and I pick the other?”

Ginny pausing, licking her spoon while staring at him thoughtfully. “All right,” she replied hesitantly. “But I have to approve your name choice.”

“That hardly seems fair,” Draco pointed out.

“Fair! You’re going to talk to me about fair?” Ginny all but bellowed. “Look at me! I’m barely into my seventh month, and I’m huge! Can you imagine what I’m going to look like in three months? When you want to take over and start carrying the baby, then you can start deciding what’s fair.”

She sucked in another breath, clearly planning to continue, but Draco quickly interjected, “Okay, okay! I’m sorry. You can approve my name.”

Her lower lip wobbled horribly for a moment before her whole face crumpled into a sob.

“Oh, no, Ginny. Ginny…” he soothed, getting up to rub her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry!” she wailed, wringing her hands in her lap. Well, she didn’t have much of a lap anymore, but her hands rested on her belly. “I know I’m being completely mad.”

Her face was splotchy, and her brows were tight over watery eyes. Draco smoothed the crease between her brows with his thumb tenderly. “I love you, Gin. You’re right, I’m not the one carrying the baby—you deserve to be as mad as you want.”

“Thank you,” she whispered quietly into his shoulder as he hugged her. As Draco pulled back she looked down at the nearly finished bowl of melted ice cream. “Ugh! I have to stop eating ice cream. Will you get some Pumpkin Pasties when you’re out?”

Most of their days followed a similar pattern. Ginny continued to grow, sometimes bursting into tears for no reason at all. Lily, who was bewildered at first, ended up being enormously helpful. Once she and Ginny had finished the nursery, she and Draco would often go shopping for both things they needed for the baby and Ginny’s erratic cravings.

“What are you and Mum going to name the baby?” she asked one afternoon while they were shopping for a hovering cradle. Ginny and Lily had bought a crib months ago for the nursery, but since Ginny had started reading the parenting section of Witch Weekly, she had discovered all sorts of new, magical contraptions for babies. Draco approved of her uncharacteristic extravagance—he wanted this baby to have the best of everything no matter how much it cost.

“I get to pick the name if you’re getting a sister, and your mum gets to pick it if you’re getting another brother,” Draco replied, walking down the aisle as Lily skipped ahead. “Do you want a brother or a sister?”

Lily looked back at him over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “I already have three brothers, Dad. Do you think I need another one?”

Draco chuckled. “So you’d be disappointed with a brother?”

Lily stopped in front of a cradle and examined it before turning to look at him thoughtfully. “No, I’ll be glad whatever it is. I’d just rather have a sister. What name do you have picked out?”

“Erm…Vela? Like the constellation. Maybe call her Ela for short?” Draco ventured tentatively.

“Oh,” she cooed, “that’s pretty. Do you know what Mum picked out?”

“Not yet.” He had been a little nervous about what Ginny would pick out himself lately; she was being very secretive about it.

Lily let out an impish little laugh, and Draco marveled for what felt like the millionth time over how incredible she was. He couldn’t believe that perfect little girl was his daughter.

***

He couldn’t believe Ginny was in her last month. Nearly everything made him nervous. When the baby kicked and she jumped, his head snapped up in a panic. When she tried to hoist herself up from a low chair, he immediately sprang to help her, scolding her for trying on her own.

Everything was completely prepared by December. The nursery was done, and Draco had to admit it was beautiful. On an early frosty morning, he stood in the doorway, admiring his wife and daughter’s handiwork.

They had painted the walls the palest of blues, with magical painted clouds swirling across the ceiling. At night, stars twinkled from above the crib. George’s wife Angelina had thrown Ginny a baby shower in November, and the bureau in the corner was filled with clothes she had received.

Angelina herself had given birth to her first child a week ago, and it was she and George who had drawn Ginny back into her family.

Well, more or less, Draco sighed to himself.

All of her siblings except the Weasel himself had been at Ginny’s shower, although Granger had showed. And Ginny still wasn’t on speaking terms with her mother. She had been so happy the day of her shower—absolutely glowing—but he could tell she had noticed their absence. It broke his heart.

He was proud of how far they’d come though. Ginny had reconnected with nearly everyone in her family, including her sons. At the start of the Christmas holidays, she took them shopping for gifts, no matter how strongly Draco had protested her going out.

And he couldn’t even object when she had invited them to dinner one night. It had impressed Draco how well the three boys had gotten along—almost unnerved him. But it seemed that all the children would do anything to keep from upsetting Ginny. She had put expanding charms on even her maternity clothing now, and some days it felt like she was perpetually on the verge of tears.

“I completely forgot how big pregnancy makes me!” she would howl as she tugged on a snug fitting sweater.

All Draco could do was weather her insecurities for another month; nothing he said ever helped. It drove him completely mad that Ginny brushed off his reassuring compliments like she did his suggestions that she not take the kids to a Quidditch match only three weeks before her due date. How was he supposed to keep her and the baby safe if she insisted on being so active, he would demand exasperatedly. But she would just laugh and kiss his cheek and tell him she was fine.

He settled himself in the parlor, absentmindedly reading a book until Ginny and Lily came home. Draco knew a Quidditch match would probably be a few hours, but after only forty-five minutes he caught himself checking the clock.

He had been about to completely give up the idea of reading when there was a knock at the door.

What is she doing? Draco wondered as he strode into the foyer and opened the door.

“Did you lose your k—?”

His words died in his throat. The woman in his doorway was not his wife, but her mother, bundled up in winter garments.

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy,” she said curtly, stepping past him into the foyer. For such a small woman, she certainly had presence.

“Mrs. Weasley, excuse me. What are you doing here?”

She removed her hat and scarf along with her coat and laid it on the table beneath the portrait of Lily and Scorpius Ginny had commissioned the previous summer.

“I haven’t seen you since you were a teenager,” she remarked, folding her arms across her chest and looking at him squarely. “You certainly look different.”

“Is there something I can help you with?” he asked stiffly.

Mrs. Weasley nodded. “Might we sit down?”

He wanted very much to tell her, no, they couldn’t sit down. She could tell him what she wanted and then she could bloody well leave. But curiosity got the best of him, so he nodded tersely and led her into the parlor.

She sat down on the sofa opposite his chair and straightened her collar. Draco could tell that beneath her domineering front that she was nervous. She was having difficulty swallowing, and when she finally spoke it was only after clearing her throat.

“You understand, don’t you, that you are the second husband of my only daughter—the man who tore apart the parents of my grandchildren and caused us all so much pain? I think I have every reason to hate you.”

She said this all quickly and clearly, as if she had rehearsed it in her head a time or two before.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows and rose to get a drink from his cart. “Well, then you understand that you crushed my wife and daughter and did your best to make them miserable for the past year because of their decision to be in my life. And I have every reason to hate you.”

He poured himself a club soda—he didn’t want alcohol for this, rather he needed something to do with his hands. When he had returned to his chair, she looked at him and said, “I can see this won’t be easy.”

“What exactly is it you’re here for?”

Molly Weasley sighed, patting her hair nervously. It was more gray than red now, and the lines ran deep in her face. “My only daughter—my baby girl—is about to have another child. And I cannot possibly imagine not being there for that.”

Draco sipped his soda, looking at her hard over the rim of his glass. “And I respect that, I really do. But all of those things you said to hurt Ginny are still there. I understand you want to know our baby, but unless the origin of your problems is resolved, I’m afraid I can’t help you. I won’t let our child be born into that conflict.”

“What do you want from me, Mr. Malfoy?” she demanded, her tone annoyed. “Do you want a public retraction and apology for the things I said to Ginny and the boys? That hardly helps anything.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Draco said coldly. “That won’t help anything either. No, I want to know that your intentions for entering back into this family are right. I’m not about to give you the opportunity to endorse Potter again just because you don’t want to be left out. This is our family, and it will stay that way. You have to accept that.”

Her eyes softened. They were Ginny’s eyes exactly—even the wrinkles at the corner were the same shape. “Draco,” she said gently. “That’s exactly why I’m here.”

He saw that she meant it. Draco felt his hatred for her slipping, and he made no effort to tighten his grasp on it. He resented her for what she had put his family through, but he could tell that her words were genuine.

And it dawned on him quite suddenly that their baby would be born into a whole family instead of a fragmented one. He could forgive Molly, just as she could forgive him, for the sake a beautiful redhead they both loved and of an unborn child, already uniting them all.