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 notes: Please leave a review.